


Far Cry 5 One-shots

by Dearly_Divided



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jealousy, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyseed (Far Cry), Possessive Seeds, Protective Seeds, Smut, Soft Seeds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 34,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided
Summary: A collection of Far Cry 5 drabbles based on prompts and requests from tumblr.





	1. John/Rook - You're bleeding all over my carpet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I just wanted somewhere to put all the shorter little fics and stuff that I do as requests/prompts on tumblr. I'll update tags as I go along. 
> 
> There is no set posting schedule for this, I have a few that I've already written so I'll post one per day and then it'll just be as I write them. Hope you enjoy!

Nothing good ever happens after 2am in the morning. It was a lesson John learned long ago, back in his partying days, but it rang true no matter what the situation. That was why, when he heard the frantic pounding at his front door at 2:45, he debated about whether he should ignore it and just stay in bed. 

Joseph, Jacob and Faith all had keys and would let themselves in, but not all of his men did, and if something was wrong and he ignored it… well he’d certainly pay for that one way or the other. So, somewhat reluctantly, John shrugged on his robe over his bare chest and made his way to his front door. With a scowl on his face he ripped it open, ready to berate whoever was on the other side for disturbing his beauty sleep and that they better had a damned goods reason for doing so. But words failed him at the sight before him.

Sharky Boshaw stood on his doorstep, his eyes wide and pained, his face pale and panicked, but John barely noticed him. His attention was drawn to Rook at his side, leaning heavily against him. He wasn’t sure what startled him more, the way she was clutching at her side where an alarmingly large pool of blood seemed to be forming, or the way she seemed barely able to keep her eyes focused on him, or open at all for that matter.

“If you care about her at all, you’ll help her,” Sharky growled out, his voice far more serious than John had ever heard from the happy go lucky pyromanic.

John didn’t stop to question how the pair had managed to make it to his front door without his men finding them. He just nodded wordlessly, pushing the door wide open and stepping aside to allow Boshaw to drag Rook inside. He bit back a wince when Rook moaned in pain as Sharky laid her down on the rug in front of his fireplace.

“Sorry Chica, I know it hurts,” Sharky murmured, his hand hovering awkwardly over her top half like he was scared to touch her before he finally settled on patting her shoulder. “Med kit?” Sharky asked, turning to face John.

John couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bleeding Deputy, “Kitchen. Cupboard above the fridge.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen, making it clear that it would Boshaw, and not himself, who would be retrieving it.

Sharky regarded him suspiciously for a moment, but when Rook gasped out another pained whine he jumped back to his feet. With a muted glare he marched up to John. “If she dies, if _anything_ happens to her, I will burn this fucking Ranch to the ground with you locked up in it,” he hissed in a whisper, ensuring that Rook wouldn’t hear him.

He was almost tempted to make a snarky comment in return, but when he finally met Boshaw’s gaze he saw the pain, the fear, the overwhelming love that shined in those baby blues of his, John thought better of it. He didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d follow through with his promise, so he nodded minutely. Sharky, satisfied his threat had been clearly understood, stalked off to the kitchen, leaving John alone with Rook.

His heart was pounding and he felt sick, but he threw a charming smile across his face as he approached her, kneeling down beside her. Rook’s eyes followed him warily as he reached across and brushed a stray curl away from her sweaty forehead. “If you wanted my attention, Deputy, there are easier ways than getting yourself shot. You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

Rook almost laughed at that, but her face twisted up in a grimace and the sound was cut off by a choked gasp. In an instant John’s hands were on her, one against her cheek, the other gripping her hands tightly. 

“You rather I bled onto the hardwood?” she grit out.

John’s thumb brushed gently across her cheek, “I’d rather you didn’t bleed at all, my dear.” 

His eyes trailed down to the wound near her stomach. As carefully as he could he peeled back the bloodstained shirt to get a better look at it. He winced, it looked bad, but gunshot wounds never looked pretty to begin with, and John had no way of knowing exactly how serious it was. Maybe he should call Jacob, his older brother had seen enough injuries to know what to do. He could help her better than John, and Jacob knew- 

Another pained whine brought his thoughts back to the woman lying next to him, and he glanced up to find Rook’s lovely brown eyes fixed on his.

“So what’s the verdict, doc?” she huffed out with a tight smile, but John knew her well enough to recognise the fear in her eyes as she spoke. It seemed his fearless Deputy was afraid of something after all. 

He knew what she was really asking, and he squeezed her hand tight, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I will move heaven and earth before I let _anything_ happen to you, my dear. You’re not going anywhere.” He would have said more, but Boshaw chose that moment to re-appear with the med kit in hand.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly, squeezing his hand in return as Sharky set the kit down beside her and got to work.


	2. Polyseed - Endless

John had been watching Jacob for the last forty-five minutes, becoming more and more agitated with each passing second.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Jacob?” John asked, his crystal blue eyes narrowed in irritation.

From his position on the couch, Jacob glanced down at Rook, fast asleep with her head in his lap, and then back to John, his lips twitching up into a smirk. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘P’.

A muscle in John’s jaw twitched. “No? No Judges to train? No trials to oversee?”

Jacob shifted the reports he’d been reading through so he could use his free hand to run his fingers through Rook’s curls. Even in her sleep, she let out a pleased hum at the touch, which only served to make Jacob’s smirk grow wider and John’s scowl more pronounced.

Jacob tutted, “You know, jealousy isn’t a good look on you, John.”

“It’s not jealousy, merely brotherly concern. I would hate for you to be _neglecting_ your duties for Rook’s sake,” John replied with a condescending frown that just dripped with insincerity.

Jacob cocked an eyebrow in faint amusement. “S’that so?” he asked.

John smiled his most charming smile, and if not for the malicious glint in his eyes, Jacob might have been tempted to think it was genuine. “Of course. I know how _busy_ you are Jacob, training up our soldiers is demanding work, especially with the Whitetail militia breathing down your necks.” He put a hand to his heart, “I’d be more than happy to take Rook off your hands if you needed to return to your men and take care of that _situation_.”

A dark look flashed in Jacob’s eyes at the mention of the militia, but otherwise he didn’t rise to his brothers baiting. “Oh I bet you would be. But the thing is, Johnny, me and the pup are pretty damned comfortable where we are.”

John scoffed, “And here I thought-“

An irritated grumble cut him off. “Will the two of you please shut up? I am trying to have a nap here,” Rook interrupted, lifting her head to glare at the two of them.

Both men looked down at her in sheepish surprise, but before they could apologise, Rook just burrowed her head back in Jacob’s lap, humming contentedly when his fingers resumed their petting. Jacob chuckled softly, raising his gaze once more to meet John’s with a victorious smirk. Rook wasn’t going anywhere, she was quite happy where she was, in _his_ lap.

But John was far from ready to concede. He crossed the floor and dropped into a crouch before Rook. With the softest of touches he caressed her cheek, smiling brightly when her eyes opened once more to fix on him.

“Well darling, if you want some rest you’re more than welcome to use my bed. I’m sure it’s far more comfortable than Jacob’s thighs,” he said, eyeing Jacob’s jeans with clear distaste.

Jacob bit back a growl as Rook sleepily leaned into John’s touch. She was such a needy little thing, and John was taking advantage of that.

“Rook’s fine where she is, aren’tcha honey?” he said, setting aside his reports so he could drape his other hand across her midriff. _Mine._

John glared at the offending hand as Jacob’s fingers began to wander, making Rook whine and shift when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Jacob just hushed her soothingly with a mocking smile for John’s benefit.

If looks could kill, Jacob would be six feet under. “Why don’t we let Rook decide what she wants for herself?” John bit back testily.

Jacob snorted. “You’re so sure she’d pick you?” he replied.

John ignored him, his thumb brushing gently back and forth across Rook’s cheek, “You want to come upstairs with me, don’t you, darling?” he cooed softly, tilting her face up to meet his loving gaze.

Jacob scoffed, “She said she wanted a nap, not for you to try and fuck her.”

“I believe Rook wanted some peace and quiet,” Joseph spoke, appearing in the doorway with a disapproving stare. “And yet you two are unable to stop your endless squabbling to allow her that.”

He sighed wearily, walking across the room to where his siblings and their lover sat. “She is not a toy to be fought over.”

John’s eyes fell to the floor like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, quickly dropping his hand from Rook’s cheek and backing away. Jacob merely grunted, although he too withdrew his arm from her waist under the weight of Joseph’s icy stare.

Satisfied for the time being, Joseph turned his attention to Rook, who had been watching their interaction quietly from Jacob’s lap. With an affectionate smile he saved only for her, he offered her his hand. “Now, my love, why don’t you come with me? You may rest in _our_ bedroom.”


	3. Jacob/Rook - They can't hurt you anymore

Jacob saw the signs. 

Kids of abuse learned to recognise it in others, or at least he had anyway. Maybe it was because he had Joseph and John growing up beside him, and he watched how they reacted, the little traits and quirks they picked up thanks to their father and his fists. Regardless, Jacob knew early on that not everything was as it seemed with their Deputy.

It wasn’t like she a shrinking violet, afraid of her own shadow, nor had she turned out like Jacob, angry at the world and just aiming for a fight. No, instead of being warped into a bitter, hateful creature, Rook had become kind, almost detrimentally so. It’s why she came back for Pratt, when the smart thing to do would have been to run from him and his brothers. 

It was a weakness of a sort, but after all that she had been through, he could allow her that. And besides, it her kindness that had brought her right to him, that had led them to their… well, whatever they were. 

No it was in the little things that Jacob recognised the signs. The flinch that Rook tried to hide when someone raised their voice, her constant stream of apologies, the way she tensed, curling in on herself when those around her got angry.

That never made her any less of a force to be reckoned with, but it did make Jacob curious.

She never spoke about it, didn’t talk about her family _ever_. She staunchly changed the subject whenever it came up, which to be fair wasn’t all that often. That was fine, Jacob wasn’t like John, he didn’t need to hear her full confession, though part of him wanted to. 

He didn’t realise how much he wanted to until the day that Rook dropped a plate on the hardwood floors of his kitchen, shattering it into pieces. The way she’d spun around, tears already in her eyes and apologies spewing from her lips. The panic in her eyes, the way she flinched as he’d lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulders to assure her it was fine, it just a stupid plate - it tore at him.

He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t him that she was frightened of, but lying awake that night, Rook fast asleep by his side he found himself angry, not at her, never at her, but at the people who’d made her like that. He wanted to know who had hurt her, how often and how bad. He’d repay it back in kind.

But Rook never spoke about it, and he was reluctant to push her too far. He toyed with the idea of asking John to talk to her, but this was between him and Rook. Not even Joseph knew about the abuse he knew Rook had suffered, and unless she decided otherwise, it would remain that way. Jacob would find out the full story eventually, and he was nothing if not patient. 

When Jacob was jolted awake one night by the sound of muffled screams and cries, he thought for a moment that he was back in Iraq. But as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and his racing heart slowed, he realised that he was in his bedroom and the screams weren’t from his traumatised squad mates, but Rook in the midst of a night terror.

“Please, please I’m sorry, please don’t - I didn’t- No! Please, I-I’m sorry! I won’t- Stop, please! I promise I’ll be good,” she whimpered, her face twisted in pain as she writhed on the bed beside him. Each word was like a knife in his heart and he felt that all too familiar rage swelling within him. He quickly stamped it down, knowing that there in their bed, his fury would do neither of them any good. There would be time for that later, Jacob would indulge in every glorious moment of his wrath.

Moving quickly Jacob yanked her into his arms, one hand finding its way to her face, brushing away the tears, and gently coaxing her back to consciousness, murmuring soft reassurances the entire time.

Slowly but surely, the whimpers died down and those beautiful browns of hers fluttered open. “Jake-”

He pressed a gentle (well as gentle as he could manage in his current state) kiss against her lips, stealing the words away. But as he pulled away Rook began to sob, heart wrenching, pained cries, ripped from somewhere deep inside her. She clutched so desperately at him, burying her head in his shoulder as she cried.

Jacob just pulled her closer against him, running his fingers through her hair as he peppered kisses across every inch of skin he could find. “Hey, hey, calm down, pup. They can’t hurt you anymore.” 

He would make damned sure of it. 


	4. Joseph/Rook - Please put your penis away!

If God was real, Rook was 100% certain that he had it out for her. She’d had the day from hell. Not only had she been chased from the Whitetails down into the Henbane by some particularly determined fucking peggies, but upon finally putting a bullet into the last of them, she’d stumbled into a nest of wolverines strung out on Bliss. 

Covered in blood, bruises, scratches, dirt and pissed as hell, Rook just wanted a nice, relaxing soak. Mercifully, she knew that there was a secluded hot spring nearby that wasn’t dosed in Bliss where she could take five fucking minutes to herself without being interrupted.

Or so she thought.

When she got there, there wasn’t a soul in sight, which was _perfect_. She felt no shame whatsoever in stripping off her clothes, including her underwear. In nothing but her birthday suit Rook waded into the warm water, moaning in delight. Letting her eyes flutter shut she allowed herself to relax, feeling the tensions and aches of the day ease under the steamy water.

That was her first mistake, because it meant she didn’t see the figure approaching until it was too late.

“Deputy, what a pleasant surprise,” a soft voice hummed.

Rook’s eyes shot open in horror as her heart skipped a beat. There, standing before her shirtless as _always_ was Joseph Seed, because of course he was. She yelped, moving like lightning to cover her breasts with one hand while the other ducked to hide her privates and backing up to the furthest corner of the water.

Joseph seemed to regard her surprise at his sudden appearance with fond amusement. “Is the water nice?” he asked, slipping off his boots.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Rook hissed with wide, horrified eyes. She glanced to her own pile of clothes, right by his feet, her rifle sitting just a little further, well out of her reach. 

Joseph hummed in disapproval at her cursing as he took off his socks and stuffed them inside his boots. “I have no intention of harming you, my child. I merely wish to bathe, is that a such a sin?” He almost sounded like he was enjoying this. Rook had never wanted to hit a man as much as she wanted to hit Joseph Seed in that moment.

She gaped at him. “There are plenty other _unoccupied_ springs in Hope County, go bathe there!” she cried out.

Joseph sighed, like she was being a petulant child, “I told you, I am not here to hurt you, and you needn’t worry my child, your virtue is safe from me.” And yet the way his eyes trailed over her form, obscured slightly in the water, not to mention the prominent Lust scar sitting just above his jeans made her wonder. “God has brought us together once more. You cannot keep running from this,” he said.

Rook snorted, still cringing away on the other side of the pool, “Wanna bet?”

Joseph just sighed, his fingers finding his belt buckle, deftly undoing it and moving onto the button and zipper. Rook flushed pink as he yanked his jeans off to reveal that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Will you please put your penis away?!” she shrieked, averting her gaze and trying to calm her pounding heart.

Joseph laughed, and under other, less awkward circumstances, Rook might have thought the sound warm and rich. “You’re naked, are you not?” A fact Rook was _all too_ aware of. “You can hardly expect to swim in my jeans,” he said, as he shucked them off too, dropping them next to her own pile of clothes.

She squeaked as he entered the water, his eyes fixed firmly on her as he waded towards her corner of the pool. “Hm… delightful, truly,” he breathed with a serene smile. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was talking about the water, or her, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter.

Rook’s own stare was fixed firmly on the shrubs on the other side of the water, her cheeks flaming red. “I can still kick your ass if you try anything,” she hissed, but Joseph seemed unperturbed, swimming closer to her side. “Will you- will you stay over on your side!”

Joseph just chuckled again, “If it would make you more comfortable. As I said, I am merely here to bathe, Deputy. Your presence is but a welcome blessing.”

Rook just wanted this day to end.


	5. Jacob/Rook - Did you just hiss at me?

Rook had never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. She’d never hurt anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt somebody else.

Eli didn’t deserve it. Eli was a **good** man, and she’d shot him like it was an execution. 

She supposed it was, in a sense. She was nothing but the hangman, the weapon created to carry out the sentence. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t in control of herself when she’d pulled the trigger, it didn’t change the fact that she had been the one to put him down. When Wheaty had shoved that gun in her face, she’d almost wanted him to pull the trigger.

_End it, end it right now. I deserve it. Please. **Do it**._

But he hadn’t. Tammy, out of all them, had stopped him. “You find that _motherfucker_ , you find Jacob and you kill him,” she’d snarled. “Or next time I see you, so help me God, I’ll kill you myself.”

For once, Rook and Tammy were in total agreement. Rook was going to put a bullet in Jacob Seed and end him once and for all. She was going to get Staci the fuck out Jacob’s bunker and she was going to blow it sky fucking high. Then… then she would find some way to deal with the fact that he’d made her into a murderer. 

She walked out of that bunker with her rifle loaded and her finger on the trigger. Rook mowed through Jacob’s men in a haze of blood and screams. She didn’t discriminate, nor did she show mercy, because they sure as hell weren’t going to show her any. All the while she had Jacob’s voice in her ear, taunting her, praising her, reminding her that without Eli, she was _nothing_. 

But Jacob was wrong about that, by his own hand, he had made her into a killer. She wasn’t the militia’s lackey, nor was she just the poster child for the resistance. No, Rook was a _weapon_ and she would destroy him if it she destroyed herself in the process.

Black fury pumped through her heart, clouding her vision and blocking out everything but the thought of killing Jacob the same way he’d made her kill Eli.

She’d put him down like a fucking dog.

With brutal efficiency (she supposed she did have _something_ to thank Jacob for) she carved a bloody swath to the mountain where Jacob was waiting for her, his precious sniper rifle trained on her. With every kill she heard his voice in her ear. 

Good. 

Well done. 

Yes, sacrifice the _weak_.

Know your purpose.

 _Excellent_.

It struck her that Jacob was _enjoying_ this, her righteous fury and the bodies she left in her wake.

He was proud of the monster she’d become. He didn’t care that the men and wolves she was tearing apart were his, so long as she continued to kill. She could only imagine how she looked, filthy, covered in blood, a snarl on her face and tear tracks still damp across her cheeks. A mad woman in every sense of the word.

And then, with one violent snap of a neck, it was just the two of them, Jacob up in his perch and her on the ground beneath him.

In her mindless fury, her desperation to _kill_ , Rook made a mistake. As she clambered up onto the rocks to reach him, she swung too far out, putting herself in Jacob’s sights. It was only for a split second, but that was all Jacob needed.

He took the shot.

The impact knocked Rook clear off the rock face and sent her tumbling to the ground below.

She heard the sickening snap and felt a white hot pain shoot up her leg, but she was more focused on the bullet wound in her shoulder. A quick assessment told her it was a clean shot, through and through. She wouldn’t bleed out, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch.

Through the blinding pain she heard the sound of Jacob’s laughter, getting closer as he made his way down the slope. She gasped, biting back an agonised scream as she tried to shift herself. between her broken leg and her shoulder, Rook wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

A quick glance found her rifle a few feet away from where she’d fallen. Desperately Rook wiggled, trying to reach for it with her good arm. If she could just get it-

She shrieked out as a combat boot came down on her wrist, pinning it to the ground. She glanced up to find Jacob hovering over her, a smug little smirk plastered across his face.

“Well well well, what do we have here, pup?” as he crouched over her, grinding her wrist into the dirt. “Look what you’ve done to yourself. Are you done playing at being the hero, Dep?” he tutted.

Rook just glared up at him, “Fuck you, Seed.”

Jacob just chuckled, “A fighter till the end, huh?” His crystal blue eyes studied her for a moment, his smile widening as the sight of the gun shot wound under her collarbone. “That’s okay, if we’re being totally honest with each other, I kinda like your spirit.” His scarred fingers brushed against her shoulder, pressing down none too gently on the bloody wound, snickering again when she screamed, writhing beneath him as the pain consumed her. After a long moment he pulled away and Rook collapsed back to the ground, breathless and reeling.

As the dizziness in her head began to clear, and the pain receded somewhat, Rook locked eyes with the elder Seed, bared her teeth and hissed.

Amusement danced across his eyes. “Did you just hiss at me?”

“If you’re going to kill me, Jacob. Do me and favour and get it over with,” she growled. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to play with your food?”

He outright laughed at that, but something shifted across his face. His eyes darkened, his lips curling up into a predatory grin, and if Rook had to put a name on the expression he wore, she would have called it glee.

“Honey, I’m not gonna kill ya.” He must have noticed the way Rook’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, because his hand, still wet with her blood, came to rest on her cheek, stroking it fondly as he gazed down at her. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t think I’m letting you run back to your little militia either. You’re not going _anywhere_. You’re mine, pup.”


	6. John/Rook - Does he know about the baby?

Of all the stupid, fucked up situations that Rook had found herself in before, this might be the worst. There was some part of her that hoped her hunch was wrong, but the six positive tests in her hand didn’t leave her with a lot room for doubt. 

Honestly, Rook was surprised she managed to find the tests to begin with. It was Kim, who’d told her where she’d bought hers from, when Rook had come to her with her suspicions. Sure enough, there they were, sitting on a shelf at the gas station in town. 

“Rook, are you done?”

Which is how she found herself in the Rye’s bathroom, cursing herself for being so fucking stupid. For a moment, Rook just wanted the world to open up and swallow her whole so she didn’t have to deal with the fact that she was pregnant with a Seed baby. But the world isn’t that kind, and eventually Rook had to respond or Nick would absolutely break down that door.

“Yeah. I’m done,” she said, tossing the tests in the bin and unlocking the bathroom door. Kim, Nick and Sharky are huddled around the door, waiting for her. All three of their mouths opened to ask the question, but the way Rook’s shoulders were slumped and the fact she wouldn’t meet their gaze told them everything they needed to know.

“Well shit,” Nick breathed, not quite dodging the sharp elbow his wife sent into his side.

Well shit, indeed.

Behind him, Sharky sighed, “You know Shorty, when I told you to do everyone a favour and fuck John Seed, I uh, wasn’t meaning literally.”

Both Kim and Nick hit him for that one.

Half an hour later they were all sitting in the Rye’s living room, Nick and Sharky with a beer in hand while Kim and her nursed some non-alcoholic apple cider. Being pregnant was already so much fun.

“So, does he know about the baby?” Sharky asked, breaking the awkward silence that had descended on the room.

Rook and Kim stared at him incredulously, but it was Nick who spoke, “She’s only known herself for less than an hour, when the fuck d’ya think she found time to tell _him_?”

Sharky’s cheeks tinged with pink. “I _know_ that, I just thought maybe you might’ve called him or somethin’, when you first thought you might have been ‘with child’,” he said, using air quotes. 

Rook just shook her head. She had neither spoken to nor seen John since the night this whole mess had started. It hadn’t exactly been a mistake so much as a lapse in judgement that had her slipping out of his bedroom via the window after he’d fallen asleep.

He had radioed her every day since, sometimes to taunt/flirt with her, sometimes to hiss threats in response to the hell she was wreaking across his region, and once or twice, late at night when they both should have been sleeping, he’d begged her to come back to him.

Those were the hardest ones to ignore.

“Besides, Rook doesn’t have to tell him shit,” Nick huffed, clapping his hand down on her shoulder and squeezing.

But Kim just sighed, “And when she starts to showing? Do you honestly think John Seed, the same John Seed who tried to pass your baby off as his, without having slept with me, mind you, is not going to be a _little_ curious about the parentage?”

“We could say it’s mine,” Sharky interjected, his voice surprisingly earnest. He met her gaze when she twisted around to face him. For perhaps the first time since she’d known him, Sharky was deadly serious. “I could be its daddy… just until this whole cult business blows over, of course,” he added with a tentative and almost shy smile.

Nick snorted, “As if anyone would believe that Rook’d sleep with you.”

Sharky shot him a glare, his cheeks flushing red, but once again it fell to Kim to be the voice of reason, “That’s sweet Sharky, but I don’t really think that’d make a difference. Besides, when that baby comes out with the Seed baby blues, it won’t matter what anybody says.” Her eyes flickered back to Rook, who had been oddly silent through the whole conversation. “But Nick’s right.”

“I am?” Nick said at the same time as Sharky’s incredulous, “He _is_?”

Kim shuffled closer to Rook, tossing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against her side. “You don’t have to tell him, because you don’t have to have this kid, not if you don’t want to.”

Rook’s stomach lurched at the very thought. “No, I’m keeping it. I know it’s not ideal circumstances, but that not its fault-” her words trailed off under the weight of their stares, but there wasn’t an ounce of judgement between the three of them.

Kim rubbed her arm and Sharky’s hand reached for her knee while Nick just leaned against her other side. 

“The smart thing for you to do would be to run, but you’re not gonna do that, are you Rook?” she asked.

“I can’t.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, so she sighed and began again, “I won’t walk away.”

Kim just sighed, “Didn’t think so. You know if you do tell him, he won’t stop until he has you.”

Again, Rook nodded. She didn’t need the reminder, she remembered all too well the way John had clutched at her like he was afraid she’d slip away, the words he’d so lovingly whispered between kisses, the desperate, manic affection in his eyes as he’d rocked into her.

If John knew she was carrying his baby, he would hunt her down with a singleminded ferocity, and woe betide anyone and anything that stood in the way.

But what choice did she have? She wasn’t leaving Hope County to its fate, she wasn’t getting rid of her kid, one way or the other he’d find out. Maybe it was better to get ahead of it? At least that way maybe they could try and make some kind of a plan.

“Hey, whatever you decide to do, Rook, you know we’re right behind you,” Nick said.

“Damned straight,” Sharky added with a grin, clinking his bottle against hers.

Rook made her mind up later that night when sleep continued to elude her. She slipped from the spare room, making her way out to the front porch and settling herself in one of the seats. With a trembling hand she brought her radio up to her lips and clicked it on.

“John? You awake?” she breathed.

She was greeted with silence, and her eyes fluttered shut. Maybe this was a sign that she-

“Deputy,” John practically purred, stopping her thoughts in their tracks. “What a thoroughly _pleasant_ surprise.”


	7. Polyseed - They're monsters

Rook was only a child the first time it happened. One moment she had been playing with her toys, the next she was writhing on the ground, howling in agony because her skin was on fire.

There wasn’t a mark on her.

That was the day her parent’s explained the concept of soulmates and shared pain to her. Whoever her soulmate was, they were going through hell, and dragging her right along with them. Rook had spent weeks in bed, whimpering as her skin burned, all the while her parents watched on, unable to do anything but pray for the pain to end, one way or the other.

That was the first time, but not the last, that Rook wished she didn’t have a soulmate.

It would be nice to say that that was the last time Rook suffered alongside her soulmate, but it would be a lie. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad, a phantom pain from a bruise or a cut that wasn’t hers. Other times it was worse, it felt like there was a whip against her skin, fists driving into her stomach without mercy, a bullet piercing her flesh and tearing through muscle. It was never ending. Back then, Rook had cried for them, because she knew they were _suffering_ and no one deserved whatever abuse they were so clearly going through.

It took her a few years to come to the realisation that she might have had more than one soulmate. The pain was _different_ , not just in the frequency or the intensity, and not in any way she could accurately describe, but they just felt… separate in a way. It wasn’t unheard of for some people to have multiple soulmates, but it wasn’t exactly common either.

And as she’d overheard her father whisper to her mother one night when they’d thought she was asleep, _How could one person survive through so much pain?_

The pain changed over time, but it never disappeared, not entirely. Having a soulmate still felt like more of a curse than a blessing. 

But it wasn’t their fault, Rook was sure of that, and even if she wanted to, Rook could never quite find it within herself to hate her soulmates.

And it wasn’t like she hadn’t shared her pain with them either. The Christmas she’d fallen from the tree and broken her wrist, or that time when she’d badly misjudged her ability to backflip into her pool and had to get six stitches above her left eyebrow, they’d felt it all.

She became quite adept at differentiating the pains her soulmates experienced. Some wounds were inflicted more than once. The first time it felt like someone had taken a knife to her skin it had left her breathless and reeling on the floor. By the third time, Rook traced the phantom pain with one hand, sketching the letters with her other.

_Sloth. Greed. Gluttony. Lust. Wrath. Envy. Pride._

Rook had never been a religious person, but even she knew of the cardinal sins. She didn’t particularly want to think about what those marks meant for her soulmates, she could only close her eyes and hope that they weren’t part of some weird religious cult, but why else would those sins be carved into their skin and re-opened time and time again?

She was in college when she got her first tattoo (a little sparrow nestled under her collarbone on her right side) and realised the stinging pain was a touch too familiar. Her soulmates, or one of them at least, were tattooed.

She knew the placement of their scars (because they had to be scars with wounds that painful) she knew they had tattoos spanning their torso and arms, and Rook was almost certain that ~~when~~ _if_ she met her soulmates, she’d know they were _hers_ straight away.

And yet she wondered sometimes whether she actually wanted to meet them at all, because surely after years of abuse and pain and misery, what kind of men would be waiting for her?

Her mother had been a firm believer in the saying that if something looked too good to be true, it usually was. Hope County was too good to be true. It was beautiful, the people were friendly, if not a little odd, and when she’d moseyed in to the Sheriff’s department on a whim, he’d taken her out for lunch and by the time their plates were empty, he offered her the job.

No one mentioned anything about a cult when she first moved in. But as she settled into her job and her new life in the picturesque town, the whispers about the ‘Project’ and its true purpose began to reach her, nothing anyone could prove, of course, but they swelled throughout the County none the less. Maybe Whitehorse had been protective of her in those first few months, because whenever there was a call involving the Seeds or the Project in general, Joey and Staci were sent while she stayed behind.

And things only got worse. Rumours grew - kidnappings, torture and indoctrination. It sounded far fetched, especially for a place like Hope County, but people were afraid, and Rook didn’t blame them. 

“Those Seeds, they’re monsters,” Evelyn Hardy had told her one afternoon when she went to do her usual afternoon coffee run. “Every last one of ‘em. You mark my words kid, this is just the beginning.”

Rook’s stomach had twisted in knots, and she began to dread the day that she would inevitably cross paths with the Seed family.

The day that the Marshal turned up to arrest Joseph Seed, waving his fancy warrant around, Rook assumed that she was staying behind, right up until he told her to get her ass into gear because they were wheels up in 10.

She didn’t watch the video of Joseph Seed that Joey and Staci were playing, having to listen to it was bad enough. In hindsight, maybe she should have. Maybe she should have done her research before she even got in that stupid chopper, because at least she wouldn’t have walked into that church blindly.

But walk in blindly she did.

The moment she stepped into that church, something in her gut twisted and a sense of dread settled over her, but she had a job to do, so she followed Earl and the Marshal into the belly of the beast. Joseph Seed, _the Father_ didn’t acknowledge their presence at first, preaching to his flock in a voice that sent shivers down her spine. The discomfort in her stomach grew with each step forward, but it wasn’t until he stepped towards her in mocking surrender that Rook realised why.

There, on his bare torso, nestled between tattoos were Joseph Seed’s sins.

It felt like a gut punch, knocking the wind out of her.

“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch,” the Marshal ordered, but Rook couldn’t take her eyes off Joseph, much less actually arrest him. 

“I-I…” she stuttered, unable to form proper words.

Joseph watched her with curious eyes and a sudden, awful thought occurred to her. Unable to help herself, Rook’s gaze darted to his siblings behind him. Jacob with red, angry looking scars spanning his arms, neck and face. John to his right, the barest hint of a scar Rook was almost certain read _Sloth_ visible on his chest.

They were her soulmates. She didn’t need proof, in that moment, Rook _knew._

“Rook, you okay?” Whitehorse asked, but she couldn’t focus on him, not when her entire world is falling apart. Rook could only gape like a fish, because what the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Evelyn’s words from weeks ago rang in her head, _those Seeds, they’re **monsters**_.

Her soulmates, the men she’d suffered three lifetimes of pain for, were _monsters_ , so what the fuck did that make her?

It felt like a twisted joke.

She was going to be sick.

Joseph’s eyes hadn’t strayed from hers the entire time, and slowly but surely a knowing smile lit up his face, but he couldn’t, there was no way-

“Rook, cuff him, now!”

“I-I can’t,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a furious growl the Marshal reached out, grabbed her wrist and twisted, causing her to gasp out in pain. Her stomach dropped as she heard the three sharp hisses of _her_ pain echoing across the room.

 _Fuck_.

The Marshal was too absorbed in his own world to notice anything was amiss, and yanked her back to growl into her ear, “I wasn’t fucking asking. Arrest him now, Rookie, or so help me god I’ll arrest you too.”

But his words washed over her, Rook was too busy staring wide eyed at the Seeds. Joseph, smiling with smug satisfaction, John, gazing down at her with gleeful surprise, Jacob, studying her with an unreadable expression that almost looked _pleased_.

“God told me you were coming,” Joseph murmured, gazing at her like she was some kind of a miracle. The delight in his eyes faded somewhat as he turned his attention to the two men standing beside her, one of whom had his hands on _his_ soulmate.

Rook’s heart skipped a beat.


	8. Joseph/Rook - Sorry isn't going to help you when I kick your ass

Rook could honestly kill him. The little _thief_. For all his preaching and his holier than thou attitude, apparently Joseph had no issues whatsoever skirting around his own rules. 

Did the man have no respect for her whatsoever?!

She slammed the fridge shut with a growl and a murderous look on her face. Rook took a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth, and with pursed lips and clenched fists she stalked off to find her Joseph Seed and throttle him.

Her husband was, unsurprisingly, in his study, pouring over his notes for his next sermon. He didn’t look up when she entered, likely too absorbed in her work to even realise that she was there. As she studied the room she caught sight of the plate, sitting on top of one of his notebooks, empty save for a few crumbs - all that was left of her hard work. 

It was all the evidence that she needed to determine his guilt.

The scowl on her face slipped away as her lips quirked up into a saccharine smile. “Joseph, honey?” 

Her husband carefully put down his notes and his pen, swivelling around in his chair to face her. For a moment, the expression on his face was one filled with warmth and love, but as he took note of Rook’s sickly sweet smile and the strange glint in her eyes, it wavered ever so slightly. 

Joseph, it seemed, was smart enough to realise that he was in trouble, even though he didn’t yet understand _why_. Nevertheless, her reached out a hand for her to take, and he couldn’t help the softening in his eyes when she took it.

“Yes, my love?” he replied, his voice as calm and soothing as always. 

She perched herself down on the arm of Joseph’s chair, allowing his free hand to slip around her waist to keep her steady. “Do you by any chance remember the salted caramel apple pie that I made yesterday?” she asked, eyeing him up like a shark smelling blood in the water.

Joseph’s eyes widened a fraction, his gaze darting from his wife to the plate sitting on his desk and back again, guilty as sin. He swallowed as her eyes narrowed.

“What would you like me to say?” he asked hesitantly.

Rook had to take another deep, calming breath. “Joseph, how can you eat an entire pie by yourself in a single day?! I was saving that pie for this afternoon, I was looking forward to it!” she whined.

“In all fairness, my love, I didn’t eat it _all_ myself. Jacob and John stopped by this morning and they may have had a slice or two, and I simply finished off the leftovers after lunch.” He shook his head, his eyes filling with regret, “I meant to save you some, but I seem to have a weakness for your baked goods.” He squeezed her hand with a fond expression, “I’m blessed to have a wife who spoils me as you do.”

Rook’s eyes flashed, and Joseph quickly back peddled. “Would an apology suffice? I _am_ sorry, Rook. Truly. I cannot seem to help myself with your cooking.” He offered her a soft, tentative smile, as if that was supposed to make up for the fact that Rook had spent two hours baking the damned thing, only to come home from her busy day to find not a trace of it left!

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!” she snapped.

Once upon a time, he would have lectured her about the dangers of allowing her wrath to guide her, but Joseph knew there was no real heat behind her words. Luckily, he knew his wife well, and if a heartfelt apology wasn’t going to cut it…

With one smooth movement, Joseph swept Rook from the arm of the chair into his lap, “No?” he said, his voice almost a purr as his fingers trailed across her back. “Then perhaps I can make it up to you in _other_ ways.”

It was only fair, after all, that he properly atoned for the pain and hurt he’d caused his beautiful, loving wife.


	9. Jacob/Rook - What's the matter, sweetie?

Staci was whimpering in his sleep, tossing and turning, clutching at his blankets like they were a lifeline. 

“Cull the herd…. Gotta be strong… Sacrifice the weak…”

Over and over the same message, every night for the past two weeks. 

His bruises had begun to heal, he looked less emaciated, his skin less waxy, but Staci was far from okay. He clung to her side whenever she was in the Wolf Den, more often than not these days. She blamed Jacob for the trauma he’d put Staci through, but she also blamed herself. Maybe if she’d gotten there sooner, maybe he wouldn’t be as broken as he was.

And Rook didn’t know how to help him. She could only sit by his side as he slept for the few brief hours he did, holding his hand and murmuring soft soothing words she knew he couldn’t hear in the hope that maybe, just maybe, it would help a little.

Sometimes he woke up with a gasp, clutching her hand so tightly it hurt, but it was the look in his eyes, the manic fear and pain and _desperation_ that tore her apart. “Don’t go!” he’d begged. 

Rook couldn’t leave him. He was her responsibility, but more importantly, Staci was her friend.

And it wasn’t like he was the only one damaged by Jacob fucking Seed.

She’d thought it was over when she’d put that bullet in his chest. Jacob Seed, the Herald, the Soldier, the Wolf and the thorn in her fucking side was dead. Then to add insult to injury, she’d taken his key, snuck into his bunker, freed Staci and together they’d shot up every single fucking peggie in the joint.

It should have been over. Jacob was dead, his chosen decimated, the Whitetails hunting down what remained of his loyal peggies. The Whitetail Mountains were for all intents and purposes _liberated_.

And then, on the night of Eli’s funeral, he’d appeared at her shoulder, his fingers brushing away the tears that spilled down her cheeks, “Be proud of your work, pup. It was a damned good kill.”

It was only through sheer force of will that Rook hadn’t screamed, because she knew he couldn’t be there, that he wasn’t _real_. Jacob was dead, she’d watched the light leave his eyes, felt his pulse fade beneath her fingers, and yet there he was, standing beside her without a scratch on him, looking at her like she was his crowning achievement.

When her face had twisted into a snarl, her body trembling and her fists clenched tight, Jacob had just laughed, “What’s the matter, sweetie? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

He disappeared not long afterwards, and when Rook awoke the next morning to find herself alone once more, she’d brushed it off as a hallucination brought on from grief, nothing more.

But Jacob came back that night, and the next. Sometimes he stayed for hours, following her around, mocking her, mocking the Whitetails and the work they were doing, preaching the same survival of the fittest bullshit that he did when he was alive. 

Rook didn’t know what he was, whether her mind had actually cracked and she was batshit crazy or if he was a ghost that was haunting her, or even if she was somehow tripping absolute balls on Bliss without even knowing it. He _felt_ real, though. He touched her, sometimes - a hand clapping down on her shoulder, fingers trailing down her side as he leaned over her to whisper in her ear, the faintest brush of his lips against the skin of her throat… He did it unnerve her, and because he damned well knew it was harder for her to ignore him when she could feel his body pressing up against hers.

That night as she kept watch over Staci, Jacob appeared once again. Rook felt his presence, the skin on the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably, even before he spoke.

“Oof, he’s not looking too good, is he?”

She gritted her teeth and snapped her eyes closed, taking a deep breath as she held onto Staci’s hand. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

He chuckled, and when she opened her eyes again there he was, leaning so cavalierly with his arms folded across his chest on the wall beside her. “Aw, don’t be like that, pup.” His eyes flickered to Staci, still shivering despite the plethora of blankets Rook had dumped on his bed. “All I’m saying is that Peaches doesn’t seem to be coping all that well. ‘M not surprised, though.” His eyes flashed to hers as a slow smile crept across his face, “He wasn’t much of a fighter to begin with.”

Rook just glared at him, the ghost or demon or hallucination or whatever the fuck he was. “You did this to him. You don’t get to call him weak after what you put him through.”

His lips twitched in amusement as he shrugged. “Don’t I? ” he asked.

Her face screwed up in disgust, “You tortured him, you sick _fucking_ psychopath. You tore him apart piece by piece and played with whatever was leftover.”

Jacob cocked a single eyebrow and snorted, “I didn’t do anything to Peaches that I didn’t do to every other piece of meat my hunters brought me. Nothing I didn’t do to _you_. The difference, kitten, was that while Peaches here crumpled like wet paper, you,” he said, jabbing his finger at her with a cheshire cat grin, ”You fought back. You were _strong_.”

Rook was almost certain he meant it as a compliment, but his words only made her stomach twist in loathing and disgust. Her anger only grew as Staci whimpered again, repeating the mantra Jacob had drilled into his head, each word hitting her like a knife in her heart. 

_Gotta be strong… Sacrifice the weak… Cull the herd…._

And Rook was so fucking tired of having him hang over her shoulder like an overgrown bat. She wanted to rage, to throw something, to throttle him, but she didn’t, mostly for the sake of Staci’s tenuous sleep. Instead she just glared at him with hateful eyes and a snarl painted across her lips. “I killed you, you’re supposed to be dead, so why don’t just fuck off and _stay dead_. Trust me, no one here’s gonna miss you,” she snapped.

Jacob just laughed, indulgent amusement dancing in those crystal blue eyes of his as he regarded her. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere, pup. I meant what I said the day you shot me, Joseph was right. You ‘n me,” he reached out, his knuckles gently brushing against her cheek with a twisted smirk. “For whatever reason, we’re bound together. Not even death’s gonna keep us apart.”


	10. John/Rook - I feel like I can't breathe

John caught sight of Jacob in the mirror, and he couldn’t help the wide beaming grin that graced his face as his older brother slipped into the room.

“How ya doing, Johnny?” he asked, clapping a hand down his shoulder.

John took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt and smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on the front of his suit jacket - Armani, naturally. Joseph hadn’t exactly approved of his choice, but this was John’s day so he’d relented and allowed his little brother a little freedom. Beside him, Jacob looked shabby, still wearing his army jacket, but he’d at least changed into his good jeans (the ones without any bloodstains) and a clean shirt. He still had his hunting knife and pistol strapped to his thigh though, because that was a non-negotiable.

“I’ve waited so long for this day-” John cut himself off with a giddy laugh. “I feel like I can’t _breathe_ , Jacob, not until I see her, not until she’s _mine_.”

Jacob stared at him for a long moment, his face inscrutable, “And you’re sure you wanna do this?” he asked eventually.

John’s baby blue eyes flashed up to meet his in the mirror, but his smile didn’t waver, “Yes,” he breathed. “This is _right_ , I know it. We’re meant to be together, I can’t live without her, Jake.”

Jacob eye’s flickered over him once last time, but he nodded to himself and sighed, “Okay then. Joseph’s ready, and Faith’s almost finished helping Rook, so you better get your ass out there.”

But John paused, turning around to face him, “Thank you.”

Jacob’s brows furrowed slightly, “For what?”

“For being my best man,” John replied, and despite himself, Jacob felt his expression soften.

“Get a move on Johnny, or are you getting cold feet?” he teased, reaching out to ruffle his hair and chuckling when John ducked out of the way with a scowl.

John let Jacob lead the way back into the church, decked out in floral garlands and gossamer. It was mostly Faith’s work, but John had ensured that it was his vision that she was following. It was his idea to nail the dead birds to the outside of the church, and not even Joseph had been able to talk him out of that one. Everything had to be _perfect,_ nothing but the best for him and his soon to be wife.

True to Jacob’s word, Joseph was indeed waiting for the two of them, standing at the altar, the Book of Joseph in one hand, his rosary beads in the other. He smiled, clasping John around the arm as he brought their foreheads together in greeting. They whispered words too soft for Jacob to hear, but John’s smile only grew, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny when they broke apart.

“Jacob, Faith and Rook should be ready momentarily. It’s time to bring in our honoured guests,” Joseph instructed.

It was only the sight of John, bouncing nervously on his feet like a school boy that kept him from scoffing. That, and the disproving look on Joseph’s face, like he knew _exactly_ what Jacob was thinking.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll bring ‘em in.”

He marched back down the aisle to the old, creaking oak doors, pushing them open. Twenty of his finest snapped to attention, but Jacob ignored them, focusing instead on the Deputy’s friends whose names he’d never bothered to learn, kneeling on the floor with their arms behind their heads. With a smile he moseyed his way on over to them, crouching down in front on his hostages.

“I’ll say this just once. You’re here because John and Joseph want you here. I personally think it’s a stupid, unnecessary risk, but I want my little brother to be happy, so here we all are.” His eyes narrowed as he stared each and every one of them down. “You play along and you can all run along your merry way when we’re done here. You try and pull anything, try to run or get in the way and I’ll put a bullet in you myself, understood?”

All he received in return were baleful glares, but he figured that meant they got the message. “Good,” he purred. His gaze snapped towards Nick, “Rye. Get up, you’re with me. Someone’s gotta give away the bride, and I’m already the best man.”

Ten minutes later, the _honoured guests_ were seated and it was time to begin. With a discreet nod from Joseph the church organ began to play and once more the doors swung open. Faith, dressed for once not in her signature white dress but a pale blue duplicate, skipped down the aisle with a bouquet in hand, beaming from ear to ear. But as lovely as Faith looked, especially when smiling, no one paid her any attention because behind her, held tightly in Nick Rye’s arms, was Rook. Dressed in a stunning white gown, flowers woven through her hair with a pretty white veil attached, Rook was the very image of a blushing bride. It would have been perfect, had it not been for the milkiness in her eyes and the faint green shimmer that followed her as she moved.

At the sight of her, John began to sob, biting down on his trembling bottom lip as he took her in and clutching at Jacob for support. Joseph smiled warmly at her, and even Jacob had to admit, Rook did make one hell of a bride.

She smiled dreamily as a livid Nick led her down the aisle, keeping her when she stumbled ever so slightly and giggled. “I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Rook,” he murmured quietly in her ear. It was only the reminder of the gun pointed at Kim’s stomach that kept him marching forward, and begrudgingly handing Rook off to John at the end of the aisle. He bit his tongue as John clutched at her hand like it was a lifeline, but the rage in his eyes spoke plenty. He was quickly shoved off to the side, to watch the farce of a wedding alongside Kim and their friends.

The ceremony wasn’t a long one. Joseph spoke of commitment and love, and about the path to Eden’s Gate while his peggie followers listened with rapt attention. John said his vows, promises to love, to cherish, to protect and to faithfully guide Rook through the Collapse and when Joseph asked if he would take Rook to be his lawfully wedded wife under the eyes of God, the Father and all those present, John said ‘I do’ with a shaking voice and an adoring smile.

With an approving nod, Joseph turned his attention to Rook. “And do you, my child, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and obey from this day until your last, under the eyes of god, the Father and all present?”

Rook just swayed on her feet, a serene expression playing across her face.

Faith leaned in, taking a hold of her shoulders to steady her. “You have to say ‘I do’, silly,” she said with a giggle.

“I do,” Rook parroted dreamily, and John breathed a sigh of relief. With trembling fingers he slipped the diamond band onto her finger. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride,” Joseph announced. 

And kiss her John did.


	11. Polyseed - She's hiding behind the sofa

Rook was almost _certain_ she was going to die. 

It was supposed to be a quick in and out supply run. They’d found the abandoned cabin purely by chance on their way back from their liberating one of Jacob’s outposts, but there hadn’t been time to do more than a quick scope out of the joint before they’d had to return to the Wolf’s Den. She hadn’t even bothered brining Sharky or Jess with her, figuring that it would be easier to slip through the wilderness unseen if it was just her.

She’d done countless runs like it before, 9 times out of 10 they went without a hitch. Occasionally she’d have the misfortune of running into a peggie or two on her way back, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

She wasn’t expecting a fucking truckload of Jacob’s chosen to rock up, armed to the teeth, intent on smoking her out. She’d managed to keep them at bay for twenty minutes, putting 3 of them down permanently, but she was out of ammo and she was running out of options.

She’d travelled light for the sake of speed and stealth. Rook didn’t have her knives, nor any of the explosives she usually carried with her. Her trusty shovel was sitting against the desk in her makeshift room at the Wolf’s Den, and this stupid cabin didn’t have a weapons supply. There wasn’t even a goddamned stray pipe or bat just lying around for her to at least try and fight her way out. No, Rook wasn’t _running_ out of options, she was _entirely out_ of options. Pinned down behind the back of a ratty couch, clutching her empty rifle against her chest like it was a lifeline.

And the strange thing was, she was almost positive that the Chosen knew it too, but they hadn’t breached the door. Even if she had been fully armed, there were enough of them to pose a very real threat, but they seemed to be toying with her. Maybe they were baiting her into using up all of her ammo and lessening the threat? If so, mission fucking achieved.

She was a fighter, she’d taken down men with her bare hands before, but not like this. By her count there were at least seven Chosen surrounding the place, blocking all of the exits-

Realisation dawned on her a minute too late. They weren’t trying to get in, they were trying to stop her from getting _out_. They hadn’t been toying with her, they had been waiting, keeping her there until… until what? Until she gave herself up? Fat chance, Rook would die long before any of that happened.

She got her answer before too long. She heard the distant rumble of another truck pulling up, the telltale sound of a car door swinging open and slamming shut as boots hit the ground.

“Oh Deputy?” an all too familiar voice sung out, and Rook just felt her heart sink as her eyes fell shut. If she wasn’t fucked before hand, she well and truly was now. “You’re surrounded, you know that, don’tcha pup? You’re either out of ammo or close enough to, otherwise you’d still be shooting. We both know how this is going to end, so are you gonna do the smart thing and come on out, or am I going to have to drag you out myself?”

And there it was, that feeling again. The crushing helplessness, the fear that ate away at her. One wrong move, and she’d have a bullet between her eyes, _if_ she was lucky.

She didn’t know why Jacob had come for her himself, or why his Chosen hadn’t simply stormed the cabin the moment they’d arrived. It didn’t really matter in the end. Unless she got one hell of a miracle, she was going to die.

Outside, she heard Jacob sigh. “You’re such a stubborn little thing, y’know… That’s okay, I’ll come get'cha.”

Rook squeezed her eyes shut as the doorway was kicked in, willing herself not to breathe as she heard the footsteps pound across the wooden floorboards. Yet even then they didn’t race for her, instead fanning out and treading quietly.

“She’s hiding behind the sofa in the next room,” one of the Chosen whispered.

_No shit_.

Rook glanced to her left, to the window not five feet away. If she was quick, and if Jacob hadn’t left any of his men outside, then there was a chance-

“You gonna make this easy on me, honey?” Jacob called out, far too close for comfort, and getting closer. As quietly as she could, Rook set her beloved rifle on the ground beside her. Taking a deep breath, she mentally counted backwards from three and leaped.

She made it two feet before Jacob’s bullet hit her in the back, yet instead of searing pain, Rook felt the familiar numbness of the Bliss, working its way through her body.

As she lay on the ground, gasping for air and fighting the blackness that crept across her vision and threatened to overtake her, Jacob Seed crouched down beside her, smirking as he reached across and brushed his knuckles against her cheek in a mockery of tenderness.

“There now, pup, wasn’t so bad, was it?”

***

Jacob carried Rook’s unconscious body up into the Ranch, ignoring both John and Joseph as they trailed behind him like two lost little puppies.

“She’s fine, not a scratch on her,” he said as he laid her gently down upon the bed. Beside him Joseph smiled while John breathed a soft sigh of relief.

“You’ve done well, Jacob,” Joseph murmured, clasping his older brother’s arms and bringing their foreheads together.

As they broke apart Jacob glanced at John, only to find him staring at the Deputy like she was some kind of a miracle, that same wide eyed smile he’d worn the day that they’d found each other. “She’s perfect,” he breathed, reaching out to tenderly brush away a stray curl that had fallen across her face.

Joseph smiled indulgently at him, “She is. Jacob has brought our lamb home to us, where she belongs, as God intended.”

Jacob just bit his tongue. He didn’t know whether the ‘voice’ his brother heard was God’s or not, and when Joseph had come to him and John and told them of the Deputy’s true purpose at their side, he’d been sceptical. When he’d explained that he wanted Jacob to abandon their previous plans and bring Rook into their home, he’d been damned near furious.

He’d seen her in action, the rage she had in her, the untapped strength, there was potential there, _so much_ fucking potential, but he also recognised the threat she posed, not just to the project as a whole but to them, their family.

But Joseph had been adamant.

_She’s ours Jacob. I’ve seen it. She will bring us together, bind us, heal us, love us as we love her, and together we will walk through Eden’s Gate, side by side as He intended._

In the end, he’d relented. Because he’d come this far on nothing but Joseph’s word, and at the end of the day, what did it matter? If it made Joseph happy, if it made _John_ happy, then who was he to stand in the way? What kind of big brother would he be if he denied them what they so clearly wanted? Not to mention that while she was there, under their watchful gaze, Rook wasn’t running amok causing havoc and mayhem. It was very much a two birds one stone kind of situation, and even he could see the benefits in that.

And as he stared down at her, so vulnerable and soft curled up as she was, Jacob had to admit, he wasn’t exactly adverse to the idea. He couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it before, how Rook would look, legs spread, naked and desperate before him. How she might feel clenched around him, begging for more and crying so sweetly when he complied. Rook was beautiful, no one was denying that, but it was her spirit, the fire in her eyes when she’d stared him down from his cages, unbroken even after a week without food, that truly piqued his interest. Maybe Josep was right, maybe this woman, the same woman who’d been trying her damndest to destroy all they’d built, maybe she was made to be _theirs_.

As John and Joseph spoke, making plans for the Deputy and their next steps, Jacob just settled himself into the armchair beside her bed and smiled as he kept watch over their Deputy.


	12. Jacob/Rook - It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka

Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he had a good sleep. Sure, there were the nights that he was so physically exhausted that he’d collapse into bed and pass out for a solid eight hours, but even then he’d still wake up feeling like he’d barely slept at all.

Those nights were rarer these days. Rook tended to stop him before it got to that stage. He wasn’t used to having someone care for him. Joseph tried, sometimes, but he never could quite find it in himself to follow his little brother’s advice, especially when the extra work he put on his own shoulders was for Joseph’s benefit.

That excuse didn’t fly so well with Rook.

She didn’t put up with his shit in general, which was a new experience for him. The jury was still out on whether he liked that or not, but he sure as fuck liked her. Still, even with Rook keeping an eye on him, Jacob didn’t sleep well. Nightmares still shocked him awake at all hours, he’d toss and turn and then give up and stumble out of bed as the dawn light began to fill their bedroom. Having Rook sleeping beside him didn’t change that, but at least he had something pretty to look at when sleep continued to evade him.

And she _was_ pretty. Beautiful actually, far too good for a man like Jacob. Far too good for a lot of men, for that matter, but for some reason she’d stuck around. Eventually she’d leave him, realise that there was someone better out there for her, someone who wasn’t damaged beyond repair, Jacob knew that. Accepted it, even. But damn it all if he wasn’t going to take advantage of every minute of her awful life choices.

But even Rook couldn’t keep the nightmares at bay.

***

He jolted awake with a start, shooting bolt upright, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs, fists clenched tightly in his bedsheets, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow. Home, he was- he was home. Just a dream, nothing more, not anymore. Breathlessly, he collapsed back against the bed, allowing his muscles relax. There was no threat there, nothing but a memory.

It wasn’t the worst he’d had, but it was certainly up there. He tasted the familiar tang of copper in his mouth - he must’ve bitten his tongue again. 

“Fuck, I need a drink,” he muttered, throwing back the covers to lower his legs to the floor and sit up. With a low sigh he ran his scarred hands over his face and back through his hair, the images of his nightmare - his past, still flashing behind his eyes like a slideshow that just wouldn’t stop.

He made a move to stand, but a soft groan and the shifting of the sheets beside him made him pause. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka,” Rook grumbled sleepily.

He winced. He hadn’t meant to wake her, especially not that early, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Rook was a light sleeper, it was yet another reason her continued presence in his bed baffled him. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d woken up shaking and gasping for air, only to have her wordlessly wrap herself around him and pull him back to sanity. He didn’t know why, but the feel of her skin against his, the strong, steady beat of _her_ heart against _his_ chest, it… it helped. 

Jacob glanced at the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table. “It’s four o’clock, and I was thinking more along the lines of a nice whiskey.”

Rook just gave him a half hearted snort, “Get your ass back in bed Seed, or so help me God, I’ll drag you back myself.”

His eyes squeezed shut. 

It wasn’t the blood, and it wasn’t the screams, it was look on their faces that stayed with him after all those years. The desperate, wide eyes that begged and pleaded, unable to comprehend the pain-

His eyes shot open as Rook’s hand came down on his shoulder. “I mean it soldier. Come back to me,” she murmured, and with a deep sigh, he allowed her to pull him back down to the mattress.

Instinctively his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him, breathing in the honey vanilla scent of her hair as he nuzzled her.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. That was fine, he knew that he couldn’t go back to sleep, not now, but he’d let her rest safe in his arms for as long as she liked. He just closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

It could have been five minutes or thirty when Rook’s soft voice broke through the silence. “Jacob?” she asked, little more than a whisper.

He didn’t open his eyes, “Yeah?”

Rook didn’t reply straight away, but when she began to wriggle against his grip he loosened his arms to allow her to slip away from him. It was only when he felt her lips press against his chest that his brow furrowed, but Rook just hummed, kissing him again, lower this time, then again, lower still.

Blearily he forced his eyes open again, only to find her biting her lip, staring up at him with a wide eyed, innocent expression that he didn’t trust for a second. 

“Pup, what are you doing?” he asked, tensing as her fingers trailed teasingly through his chest hair and down his muscled abdomen. She didn’t say a word as she brought her mouth down on him again, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she sucked on his skin, her teeth grazing across his nipple, chuckling softly when his breath caught and he hissed in delight. 

“Kitten…” he warned, his own voice heavy with the _hunger_ she’d awoken. “I asked you a question.”

Rook smirked back at him, “If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?” she suggested.

And in that moment, he understood. Rook knew there were things he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , talk about, not even to her. She knew he was too proud to ask for the comfort he needed, the touch he _craved_ , so she offered for him.

Jacob didn’t understand how a woman like Rook had ended up with him, but he’d be damned if he let her slip away. He loved her, maybe more than he’d ever loved anyone.

Rook was a goddamned blessing, and whether he deserved her or not, he was keeping her.


	13. Staci/Rook - Just smile, I really need to see your smile right now

Staci knew that he was losing it. Maybe it was the weeks surviving on scraps and barely enough water. Maybe it was that stupid fucking song that wouldn’t stop playing in his head, over and over, despite the recording long since finishing up. Maybe it was just that Jacob was damned good at what he did.

He’d expected torture, but not like that. Jacob hadn’t beat him, hadn’t laid a finger on him in anger or with the intention to harm. He didn’t need to. His trials, the conditioning, the things he’d made Staci do…

_The bodies, so much blood and all of it on his hands._

Jacob had broken him, and now he was seeing things, because there was no way that Rook was standing in the Veteran’s Centre, gazing down at him with that gentle, soft smile of hers. She looked good, too good. Her uniform as crisp as it had been on her first day, not a hair out of place.

Back then, he’d taken one look at her and scoffed. She was pretty, beautiful really, and as far as he was concerned she must have been in the wrong place, because she looked about as green as they came. 

He’d glanced at Joey with a smirk, “ _Ten bucks says she’s gone in two weeks_.” 

Joey had rolled her eyes, giving Rook a subtle once over. “ _Ten bucks says she gets promoted before you do, Pratt_.”

As usual, Joey had the right idea. While she and him were going through hell at the hands of their Seed captors, Rook was busy antagonising the cult at every opportunity across the county, yet another reason she couldn’t have been standing before him.

Rook wasn’t coming for him. Not after how he’d treated her in those few weeks before everything had gone to shit. Joey had her back, they’d hit it right off, but Staci… well every minute he wasn’t trying to flirt with her he was teasing her, like a little boy pulling pigtails because he didn’t know any other way to make the pretty girl pay attention to him.

He wouldn’t blame her is she left him there to rot, and after all he’d done, maybe that’s what he deserved.

“You- you’re not real,” he croaked, and yet even as he said it his eyes darted around to make sure they were alone. If Jacob saw-

Rook’s fingers touched his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. “No, I’m not.” He almost wanted to cry, but he just leaned into her touch and whimpered. Hallucination or not, she felt so very real.

“Rook, I’m sorry,” he choked. 

Her thumb brushed his cheek tenderly, “It’s not your fault, Staci,” she murmured.

But he shook his head, reaching up to grip the hand that cupped his cheek like he was afraid she’d tear it away or disappear entirely. “You don’t know what I’ve done, what he _made_ me do.”

The bodies on the hunting trip, the ones Jacob had made him _skin._ There was no coming back from that, not ever. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated, and real or not Staci couldn’t help but shudder. “Do you think I’ll hold it against you?” she asked, her blue-grey eyes flickering over him.

His silence spoke volumes.

Not real Rook shook her head, reaching up to grip his other cheek “You’re a _good_ man, Staci. Nothing Jacob or anyone else can do to you will change that.”

Of course Rook would be sweet, it was in her nature. She always saw the good in people, wanted to save everyone. He used to laugh about it too, he’d thought she was naïve, thought that it was a character flaw. But she didn’t know, _couldn’t_ possibly know how far he’d sunk. His Rook was good, so good and he-

He was tainted.

It was only when Rook hummed sympathetically and brushed the tears away from his face that he realised he’d started to cry.

“He says I’m weak, but I’m trying to be strong. I-I gotta be strong.” 

Rook frowned, shaking her head, “No, Staci. You have to _survive_.”

He only sobbed louder, throwing his arms around Rook and collapsing against her. He nuzzled his face into her hair, breathing in the familiar smell of honey and vanilla as he clutched at her so desperately. Oh God, he wanted her to be real, but he also wanted her safe, which meant being far, far away from Jacob and the horrifying things he and his brothers had planned for Rook.

“Hey, hey, Staci?” she whispered, coaxing his chin up with gentle fingers. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he met her gaze, though he refused to let her go. Hallucination or not, Rook was pretty much the only thing keeping him from an all out spiral.

Once again her fingers stroked along his skin, and Staci almost wept anew. “I need you to do something for me.”

Staci’s eyes narrowed in confusion, “What?” he rasped. _Anything_ , he didn’t say.

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now,” she replied, her own lips twitching upwards, though he could still see the worry bleeding through her eyes as she appraised him.

“Y-you want me to _smile_?” Even his fake Rook had lost her mind. What the fuck was there to smile about? How was smiling gonna do any good when he was a broken man at the beck and call of a monster?

But Rook just sighed, slipping her hand from his cheek to the curve of his neck, pulling him close so she could whisper in his ear. “Smile for me, Stace, because I’m coming for you, and I’m gonna get you the fuck out of here.”


	14. Jacob/Rook - Stop dancing like that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous tonight - have a second update

“Hands off,” Rook reminded him as once more, those strong, warm hands of his cupped her waist, gripping her as she rolled her hips against his lap.

Jacob met her gaze, his eyes heated and hungry, his mouth pulled back into a snarl. He looked positively wolfish, and it made her grin, knowing that perhaps for the first time since she’d met him, Rook was the one in control.

Well, as much control as Jacob was prepared to give up, at any rate.

“I don’t take kindly to teasing, pup,” he growled in warning, biting down on his bottom lip with a hiss as she rocked against him. He didn’t move his hands, but his thumbs brushed against her bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Rook laughed, “You were the one that wanted a lap dance.”

A low grunt was the only reply he gave. She brought her arms up to rest on his broad shoulders, arching her back and circling her waist, drawing Jacob’s attention to her cleavage, still clad in the lacy red bra she’d bought just for the occasion. 

Red _was_ Jacob’s favourite colour after all.

His hands tightened slightly. “The bra, lose it.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one setting the pace?” she retorted, letting her hands run down his grey shirt and then sliding them under the fabric and up his bare chest, her nails digging in just enough to make Jacob inhale sharply through his teeth. His own hands slipped from her waist downwards, gripping the swell of her ass just tightly enough for Rook to know there would be bruises the following morning. She tried not to let that thought excite her _too_ much.

His eyes flashed in the dim light of their bedroom, “Kitten, I wasn’t asking.” 

She was almost tempted to leave it on, but knowing Jacob he’d just tear if off her, and she actually really liked this one, so she seductively slipped it off, letting the lacy material fall the floor beside them with a smirk of her own.

Jacob didn’t say a word as he buried his face in Rook’s breast - biting, licking and sucking at the newly exposed skin like a man possessed. When his lips found the soft rosebud of her nipple, he wasted no time in taking it into his mouth and gently (as gently as he could manage, that is) nibbling on it. Jacob might have been more of an ass kind of man, but he made no secret about his love for her tits. 

“Uh-uh, what did I say about touching,” Rook said, biting back on her own moan as she pulled away just enough so that he couldn’t reach her anymore. 

The look on his face - the hunger, the _lust_ that simmered in those beautiful blues, oh it was perfect. 

Rook smirked wickedly, gyrated and rolled her body against his, Jacob let out a guttural groan and let his eyes shut as his his head fell back against his seat.

“Fuck honey, stop dancing like that or I’m gonna cum in my pants,” he grunted when Rook spun around and wiggled her ass against the painfully hard bulge in his jeans.

As tempting as it was to let that happen, Rook knew what he was asking for. “You wanna fuck me, Jake?” she asked, glancing behind her shoulder with a sultry smile.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he grunted, his hands making quick work of his belt buckle and the button on his jeans. He didn’t even bother taking them off, merely shoved them halfway down his thighs, took his achingly hard cock in one hand and beckoned her with one crooked finger. 

Obediently, Rook shimmied out of her own panties, kicking them off to some unknown corner of the room. She didn’t say a word as she went to sit back down on his lap, facing away from him, but Jacob’s hand on her waist stilled her.

“Turn around. I want your eyes on me, pup.”

She shivered in anticipation. Any illusion of control had long since fled, but Rook honestly didn’t care. It wasn’t about power or teasing anymore, but about feeding the fire she’d lit in both of them.

Rook turned and straddled his lap, letting Jacob guide the weeping head of his cock past the slick folds of her entrance. She was wet, almost shamefully so. Having Jacob’s eyes fixed on her as she danced for him, it was slightly more of a turn on than she’d expected, not that either of them were complaining.

In fact, Jacob looked positively thrilled at the soaked state of her.

“Look how wet you are for me, pup. Such a good girl,” he crooned.

Her cheeks flushed red, but Jacob only leant forward and captured her lips in a heated kiss, sinking into her at the same time.

Rook couldn’t help but moan in delight as he filled her. 

She might have been the one on top, but Jacob was the one setting the pace, hands on her hips, keeping her nice and close as he thrust up into her warm, tight pussy, humming with pleasure when Rook met his thrusts with eager rolls of her own hips.

“Fuck kitten, such a needy little thing,” he growled as another choked moan burst from her lips. 

Between their harsh breathing, Jacob’s grunts and the occasional praise that fell from his lips, the only sounds that fill the room were the almost obscene slapping of skin against skin as he bottomed out inside of her.

His eyes were fixed on her tits, bouncing so beautifully with every surge of his cock. In his opinion, Rook never looked better than she did when she was being fucked - her eyes blown wide, plump, swollen lips parted in a passionate cry, her naked, _heavenly_ body, spread open for his taking. Fucking magnificent.

It wasn’t long before his thrusts began to quicken, loosing the rhythm he’d worked up as he felt his end fast approaching. Instead he frantically pounded into her, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing away with fierce determination.

Rook came apart under his touch, crying out with pleasure as that little white hot ball of euphoria exploded inside of her. She shuddered around him, her walls rippling in the waves of her orgasm, tightening so delightfully against Jacob’s cock. The sight of Rook, blissed out in the throes of her orgasm and the feel of her clenching around him drove Jacob over the edge, and with an animalistic growl he came inside of her, riding out his orgasm with a few pumps of his dick.

Jacob made no effort to pull his softening cock out of her, but rather wrapped his arms loosely around her waist and let her collapse against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss against the crown of her head, smiling contentedly as she snuggled into him. 

“Goddamnit pup, you wanna dance like that again you just let me know,” he huffed with a breathless laugh.


	15. John/Rook - I haven't slept in ages

Rook couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a proper bed. Actually, for that matter, Rook couldn’t remember the last time she’d had more than an hour or two of sleep at a time. Even if she wanted to, sleep was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Sleep left her vulnerable, and she couldn’t risk waking up to the end of a peggie’s rifle in her face, or worse. 

And even if she did manage to find some hidden little burrow for her to hide away in, the moment her eyes fluttered shut her radio would burst into life. Between Eli and the Militia, Jerome, Mary May and Kim and the Cougars, she was a busy woman. Someone always needed saving, an outpost needs re-claiming, a truck to be liberated. Somehow her sleep, along with her general well being had slipped down the rung of her priorities. As long as she could aim a gun and had the strength to rain some hell on unsuspecting peggies, then she was good to go.

“Uh, you okay there ladybug? You ain’t looking so good…” Hurk trailed off, his smile a little marred by the concern on his face. Rook hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror when she’d rolled off the couch she’d been crashing on, but she could only imagine how she must have looked. Bags under her bloodshot eyes, her skin paler than it should have been, exhaustion clear as day on her face. But Rook wasn’t here to win any beauty competitions, she was here to fight back against the Project.

Rook clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Nah, I’m fine, just a little tired is all. Nothing a little coffee won’t fix right up.” 

She’d lost track of how much coffee she’d actually drank. It was either coffee or paying Tweak a visit for some Fast, and Rook figured that coffee was the less harmful option in the long run. 

“You heading off?” he asked, passing her the steaming cup he’d brewed not five minutes before, already anticipating her needs. 

Rook smiled gratefully at him, Hurk was an absolute blessing and not just for letting her crash for a few hours at his. “Yeah, Jerome just radioed in. One of the outposts we liberated in the Valley is under attack. Gotta go help ‘em beat back the peggies, or re-liberate it if I don’t make it in time.”

Hurk frowned, “You sure you’re up to it, Dep? I mean I don’t wanna doubt you, I know you can kick ass, and you’re 10 kinds of awesome, but -”

Rook just shook her head, “I’m all good, promise. Once the coffee kicks in I’ll be fine.”

The way his eyes flitted uncertainly across her face told Rook he didn’t believe a word of it. “D’ya want me to come with you? Just lemme go grab my rocket launcher,” he offered, already half way out of the room when Rook’s hand on his arm made him stop.

She smiled softly at him, “No, might have to go in stealthy, and no offence Hurk, but that’s not exactly you’re strong suit.”

He chuckled at that, “I guess not.” His eyes turned more serious as he appraised her once more, “But you’re going in with backup? Jess or that Grace girl or Nick, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see who’s free when I hit the valley. Thanks for the coffee Hurk,” she said, giving him a quick, tight hug.

Five minutes she was packed and swaggering out of his home and hopping into her truck. Hurk chewed on his lip as he watched her peel out of his driveway, staying there until she disappeared from view. 

***

In hindsight, driving while she was sleep deprived wasn’t the smartest idea, but in her defence she’d done it before without any issues. 

At some point she must have drifted off, because when she next came to, Rook wasn’t in her car, but rather lying on an incredibly soft bed with silk sheets, in a room she didn’t recognise. Despite that, common sense and a sinking feeling in her stomach told her she knew exactly where she was, a fact that was confirmed when she glanced up to her wrists and found them tied to the ornate headboard. 

Experimentally she tugged her arm, but it didn’t budge. John, or whoever had tied the knots, knew what they were doing. Rook wasn’t going to be able to wriggle free anytime soon. At least she still had her clothes on, that was something. 

“Ah, Deputy, you’re awake,” John said, appearing in the doorway with a charming smile, as if she was a friend stopping by, instead of a prisoner tied to his bed. “You know, I was pleasantly surprised when I got the call that my men had managed to capture you my dear, but then they told me _how_ they found you, and I have to admit, I was little concerned.”

Rook, unable to help herself, snorted. “Oh I bet you were.”

John acted as if she hadn’t spoken, crossing the floor and settling himself down on the bed beside her. “Asleep at the wheel, my dear. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt. You could have died, or caused an accident at the very least.”

Rook shifted slightly, trying to put as much space between her body and John’s, but he just moved with her, reaching out to place his palm against her cheek. Knowing that she was fighting a losing battle, Rook just glared at him as his bright blue eyes studied her face intently, “You look like the living dead, darling. When was the last time you slept?”

If Rook didn’t know better, she’d be tempted to think that the emotion colouring John’s tone was concern. “I haven’t slept in ages. It’s kind of difficult to get a good night’s sleep when I’m being hunted down by peggies left right and centre,” she growled.

John chuckled warmly, caressing her cheek with a fondness that frankly disturbed her a little. “Oh, but it’s not just us, is it? Your resistance have been running you ragged, they don’t care if you’re dead on your feet, so long as you keep fighting for them.” He sighed, “My brothers and I were starting to get concerned, you see. But Joseph was right, God has brought you back to us, and this time you won’t be going anywhere.” He leant down to press a feather light kiss against her lips, smiling widely as she flinched under his touch, “If you won’t look after yourself, my dear, then we will.”


	16. Joseph/Rook - What are you doing in my bed?

There was someone inside his bedroom.

He’d sensed from the moment he entered his home that something was amiss. His flock knew he did not permit visitors, his brothers would have made their presence known, Faith knew better and the sinners in the Resistance would not have been able to make it past his brother’s Chosen.

Well, perhaps _one_ sinner might.

He did not draw the gun that was holstered at his hip as he crept forward. There would be no need for it, not if he was correct in his suspicions. Deputy Rook was many things, but an assassin she was not. She would not kill him, just as he would not harm her.

Which made her presence in his home, in his _bedroom_ no less, that much more curious. The door was slightly agar, the light from inside spilling out into the dark hallway, beckoning him closer.

His long fingers pressed against the doorframe, and with a gentle push it swung open to reveal Rook, as bare as the day she was born, spread out across his sheets, grinning at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, and Joseph could not deny the rush of blood that made its way down to his groin. Even he was not immune to feelings of lust and desire - Rook was undeniably beautiful and the knowledge that the vision before him was entirely for his benefit certainly didn’t help matters.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” she purred. 

He knew that one word from his lips and Jacob’s chosen would burst through his door and surround her. He spied her clothes, and her rifle, sitting on the other side of the bed, too far for her to reach with any haste. Deliberately so.

She trusted him not to make that call.

Joseph had absolutely no intention of allowing anyone else to witness Rook like this. This was for _his_ eyes alone.

“What are you doing in my bed, Deputy?” he asked, shutting the door firmly behind him. He made no attempt to hide the way his eyes took in every inch of her, from her luscious, plump breasts to her long, shapely legs and the pretty pink pussy nestled between them. He wondered how soft her skin would feel under his touch, how warm and welcoming her body would be for him. He did not miss the way her cheeks turned the most delightful shade of pink under his attention.

She quirked a single eyebrow, “Is there somewhere else I should be?”

Joseph’s lips twitched into half a smile, but his eyes were blown wide, his heart pounding against his chest urging him to move, to take, to _worship_. “When I told you to come to me, my child, this is not what I had in mind,” he breathed, making his way slowly across the floor to her. He’d pictured her kneeling in his church, begging for the forgiveness he was so willing to give, so long as she accepted her place beside them. Never in a thousand years would he dream of her coming to him like this - heavenly and so very sinful. A temptation in every sense of the word.

Rook watched as he came to a stop at the side of the bed, scooted over just enough so that Joseph could sink into the mattress beside her. “Do you want me to leave?”

His fingers brushed along her leg, “No.”

God had led her here, of that he was certain. And as much of a sin it would be to indulge in the pleasures that Rook was offering, surely refusing such a gift would be sacrilegious. If this was how she came to him, Joseph would welcome her surrender with open arms.

If this was how she _stayed_ with him, Joseph would thank the Lord for this gift with his very last breath.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, and Joseph obliged, caressing her cheek so tenderly as he captured her lips with his. She tasted so sweet, his Rook - like vanilla and cinnamon and the very moment Joseph’s tongue swept into her open mouth he knew that he never wanted to kiss any lips that weren’t hers. She was intoxicating, addictive and so very fucking delicious.

As his lips moved against hers his hands wandered, slipping from her face to travel along her body. He wanted to experience every inch of her. Rook moaned so sweetly against his kiss when his long fingers circled her nipples, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He chuckled softly, breaking away to breathe. His cock, already hard, strained against the fabric of his jeans as he lowered his head to press a chaste kiss against the soft, creamy flesh of her breast.

“Do you want this, my child?” he asked. 

This would not be a meaningless fling, if she gave herself to him, he would not allow her to walk away from him again, not to her misguided friends in the resistance, not to her colleagues in his brothers’ care, nor even to the arms of his brothers themselves, though he knew that they too would welcome her. She would give herself _entirely_ to him, or not at all. 

Rook nodded, her eyes bright and alert despite the desire swirling in their depths. She reached for him, one hand cupping his neck, the other trailing his bared tattooed torso to rest on his chest right above his heart. He shuddered under her touch.

“I want _you._ ”

It was all the confirmation that Joseph needed. He attacked her lips with renewed fervour, his hands slipping from her lithe body to rid himself of his jeans, kicking out of them without a care, too focused on the beautiful woman beneath him.

His touch was not rough by any stretch of imagination. He wanted to worship, to bring her pleasure, not to mark or claim. He took his time, exploring all of her with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Every moan he drew from her was like a choir from the heavens, and he delighted in finding the areas that had her trembling beneath him, begging for him to _keep going_.

Rook was flushed and breathless by the time that Joseph sunk himself between her thighs, his tongue massaging her clit as his long fingers sunk into her warmth, drawing yet another keening cry that was music to his ears.

He could have spent hours buried between her legs, making her writhe and gasp as his fingers brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves again and again and his tongue swirled around her clit. It was only Rook’s breathless whimpers of “Joseph- Joseph, _please_ ,” that had him pulling away.

“Your wish is my command, my love,” he replied, easing Rook’s thighs apart just a little bit further, enough so that he can slide his own hips between them, biting back a smirk when her legs instinctively wrapped around his. Gently he guided the weeping head of his thick cock against her entrance and slowly he pushed her inside her, moaning as the heat enveloped him.

She felt so wonderfully indescribable, and if Joseph had any doubts that Rook was heaven sent, the way she arched against him, pulling him deeper quickly dispelled them. 

“Oh, little one,” Joseph moaned, stilling himself, momentarily lost in the pleasure of her walls fluttering against him. “You’re perfect.”

Rook just rocked her hips, urging him to move.

Joseph did not fuck Rook like a beast in heat, he made love to her with long, sensual rolls of his hips, heaping praises onto her between loving kisses. While one hand slipped between her legs, ensuring that she feels just as good as he did, the other roamed her body, searching for those sensitive spots that make her whimper against him.

Joseph felt his orgasm build, the increased sensitivity as he thrust into Rook with renewed vigour, the growing heat in his loins, the harsh pounding of his heart against his chest. Determined to make Rook cum before himself, he picked up the pace, both of his cock, driving in and out of her with relentless need, and his fingers, rubbing tight circles into that sensitive nub until, with a choked cry of his name, Rook came around him.

She was glorious, her head thrown back against his pillows, her back arched off the bed, lost in the throes of pleasure that _he’d_ brought about. As she clenched around him riding out the waves of her orgasm, Joseph followed suit, slamming into her one last time as he spent himself inside of her, consequences be damned.

Tangled in each other, they collapsed against the mattress, breathless but content. Joseph wasted no time in pulling Rook back in for another kiss, intent on keeping her in his arms as long as she allowed it.


	17. Sharky/Rook - You’re seriously like a man-child

“Why do you always do that?!” Rook snapped, whirling on him her arms thrown in the air and a scowl on her face. 

Sharky smiled in response, but there was nothing particularly happy about the expression. In fact, Sharky looked _pissed_. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, shorty,” he replied, his voice clipped and defensive, as if Mary May hadn’t forcibly ejected him from the Spread Eagle not two minutes before, leaving Rook to apologise profusely in his wake.

Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared, “Don’t play dumb with me, _Boshaw_. I wanna know why every time you see me talking to any man who isn’t Hurk or Nick you feel the need to mosey on over and start a pissing contest that inevitably ends in a fight!”

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth, all pretences of a smile slipping away. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, glaring intently at the asphalt of the parking lot instead of her. “He was lookin’ at you funny,” he eventually spat out.

“Oh my god, you’re seriously like a man-child sometimes! How many times do I have to tell you that Eli is my friend, nothing more! He doesn’t want to fuck me, and I have to say, I’m not all that interested in sleeping with him either. Are you going to start a fight with Staci next time I have to go on patrol with him, too?” 

Sharky scoffed, rolling his eyes. He’d made no secret of his feelings toward her co-worker, despite how many times Rook had sworn that even if Staci _did_ have a crush on her, which he _didn’t_ , she wasn’t about to go running off into the sunset with him.

“How ‘bout Wheaty, hm?” she pressed. “Shall I tell him to expect a fist-fight when he drops by the station next time to drop off some treats for Boomer?”

His face screwed up in disgust, “Hey now, Wheaty’s just a kid, he’s barely old enough to drink, let alone-” he cut himself off short with a huff, but she knew what he was going to say. A bit rich coming from the man who’d lost his virginity at the tender age of 15. 

Rook scoffed, “Oh, but apparently _every_ man with a working cock in Hope County must be uncontrollably attracted to me, or why else would they be talking to me?!”

His fists clenched at his side, but still Sharky refused to meet her gaze, “That’s not what I- just, can we just go home, please? I’m sorry, okay?”

He sounded about as sorry as a rich politician forced to apologise for yet another affair. 

Rook just shook her head, “I love you, I really do, but when you do stupid, childish shit like that-” she broke off with a frustrated growl. “Even if he was trying to hit on me, do you honestly think I have so little respect for you and our relationship that I’d go along with it?”

His dejected silence told her all she needed to know.

Rook laughed, the sound utterly devoid of any humour. “Wow! Okay. You know what, _honey_? Why don’t you go home - yours, not mine, and I’m going to head back inside and see if Mary May has calmed down enough to let me continue to drink, because I think I need it.”

She spun on her heel, intent on marching back inside when Sharky’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “D’you think I don’t know that you’re too fuckin’ good for me, Rook?”

And like that, every ounce of Rook’s anger and irritation evaporated. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked quietly.

He gave her a noncommittal grunt.

Rook sighed, reaching out and taking one of his hands in both of hers. “Sharky, talk to me.”

Finally, Sharky met her gaze. It wasn’t shame or annoyance that swam in his eyes, but _panic_ , and it made Rook’s stomach twist. “This- Us. You’re ten kinds of awesome, babe, and I’m just the small town dumbass who somehow won the fuckin’ jackpot by landing you. And one day Eli, or Staci or some other dude is gonna walk into your life and make you realise that you can do so much better than me.”

Rook exhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. When they re-opened, Sharky was still staring at her, wide eyed and nervous, like he half expected her to walk away right then and there.

“Do you know what you have that Staci and Eli don’t?” she asked, tugging him close.

“A bangin’ collection of flamethrowers and disco vinyls?” he replied with a half hearted laugh.

Rook smiled, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s waist. “Me. I’m _yours,_ Sharky.” She pressed her lips briefly against his, “And I’m not going anywhere. Now will you please stop getting into bar fights with every man who looks at me twice?”

It didn’t slip her notice that Sharky neglected to reply, choosing instead to pull her back into another kiss.


	18. Jacob/Rook - I didn't think you could get any less romantic

Jacob didn’t do romance, but Jesus fucking Christ he was _trying_. He’d even resorted to asking _John_ of all people for help. Under normal circumstances he’d rather shoot himself than debase himself like that, but this was important. Rook had actually said yes after he’d managed to grunt out his offer for a date. He had one chance, he did not want to fuck it up. After a good few minutes of laughing at him, his little brother had actually managed to impart some decent advice. 

_Take her somewhere that’s special for the two of you, bring dinner, champagne, tell her you’re head over heels fucking in love with her and voila, you’ve managed to romance our dear Deputy. It’s not rocket science Jacob._

It had sounded simple enough; location, dinner, alcohol, declaration of love. 

Location was the easy part, or so he’d thought. He’d blindfolded her, driven her down to the base of the mountains and with Jacob to guide her, they’d hiked for almost an hour before arriving at their destination. It took a little longer than he’d first thought due to Rook’s inability to see and the fact that she hadn’t exactly dressed for a hike, but he was so sure it would be worth it when she saw what he’d done for her. Jacob had whipped off the blindfold with a flourish and watched with a sinking feeling as the smile on Rook’s face wavered. 

“Jacob… where are we?” she asked, confusion clear in her eyes.

He glanced around the little clearing in the trees wondering for a moment if he’d made a mistake, but no, he was certain he’d gotten the right spot. He’d dug back through the old surveillance videos to make sure. It had to be perfect, John was _very_ clear on that.

“You don’t recognise it?”

She cleared her throat, studying the clearing for a long moment before returning her gaze to Jacob, “…Should I?” she questioned.

A slight flutter of panic tickled Jacob’s stomach, but he ignored it. This was fine, she just needed a reminder. “This is the spot my hunters caught you the first time, before they brought you to me,” he said with a fond chuckle. 

“Oh. How could I possibly forget… _that_ ,” she replied with a tight smile.

Not a great sign, but Jacob was never one to be deterred. 

“Sit. I’ve brought us some dinner,” he said, shrugging off his pack while Rook made herself comfortable on the damp logs. From his rucksack he pulled out two heat resistant containers, passing one along to Rook and keeping for one for himself. He wasn’t much of a cook, but John had told him that Rook would appreciate it more if he made it himself, so he’d stuck with what he knew.

He watched Rook open up the container, but instead of the grin he was expecting (or hoping for at any rate), there was only confusion. “Mac n Cheese and… ribs?” she asked.

Jacob fought to keep his smile, “Yeah, I made them both myself. I used to make it for John and Joseph when we were kids.”

Another long pause. 

Rook took a deep breath.“Ah. I see.” But she nodded encouragingly, even if there was something vaguely pained in her eyes as she spoke next, “Did you bring any cutlery?”

The way Jacob’s eyes widened and his grin tightened was all the answer she needed. 

“I did… not.” He was fucking this up. Alcohol - it was time to bring in the alcohol. “D’ya want a drink, pup?”

Rook nodded a little too eagerly, setting aside her food. “Yeah, I _really_ do.”

Finally, something that he knew he’d done right. John had said champagne, but Rook was like him, a girl with simple tastes. He dove into his rucksack once more, retrieving a now semi-warm beer for her and one for him.

But the expression on her face as he passed the can across to her made his stomach sink. She was staring at the beer like it had personally offended her and kicked her puppy in one fell swoop. She opened her mouth to say something but words seemed to fail her. Rook’s eyes flitted between Jacob, the beer and the dinner he’d so painstakingly prepared for her.

For a torturous moment, Jacob thought that she was going to walk away from him, but then the strangest thing happened. Rook started to laugh, a little soft chuckle at first, but it grew until she was almost in stitches, cackling like a mad woman. He forced himself to remain silent, even when his cheeks flamed red and he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“Just when I didn’t think you could get any less romantic,” she snorted between breaths. “Oh fuck, Jacob, you’re lucky I like you.”


	19. Polyseed - Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you

“You know, I am starting to think that John might not be the only Seed with a hard-on for ya, shorty,” Sharky said, breaking the tense silence that had descended upon the room.

Rook just dropped her head into her hands with a groan, trying to figure out at what point exactly had her life become this fucked up. 

A dull thwack sounded as Addie smacked her nephew on the back of the head, “Geeze, ya think?” she snorted.

With a miserable laugh and a wry quirk of her lips she turned to face Adelaide, “You must be jealous, isn’t this one of your fantasies? Three Seeds chasing you down so they can have their merry way with you?”

But for once there wasn’t a trace of the saucy wickedness Rook had come to associate with wildcat of a woman glinting in Addie’s eyes. No, Adelaide was gazing down at her with something uncomfortably close to pity, and it made Rook’s stomach sink. Addie reached across, gently smoothing her hand across Rook’s cheek in a distinctly motherly fashion, and Rook leaned into the comforting touch like it was a lifeline.

“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you, not for something like that. I wouldn’t wish what you’re goin’ through on anyone.” And just like that, a cheeky smirk lit up her face, “Your rockin’ bod, on the other hand…” she trailed off with a wink and even Rook couldn’t help but chuckle while Sharky smirked and Hurk just rolled his eyes.

The three of them had rocked up at the Marina twenty minutes ago, Jacob’s chosen hot on their heels. It was only once they crossed the bridge into the Henbane that their peggie pursuers had relented, but even in the sanctuary of the Marina Rook still didn’t feel safe, not entirely. For now they’d kept to the territory lines, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before their desire to capture and claim her outweighed whatever standing orders the Heralds had to keep to their own regions.

After her very near disastrous run in with John in his bunker, Rook had fled to the Whitetails. It hadn’t been the fear of torture or of John’s sick, twisted ideas of atonement that terrified her. No, it had been the way he’d stared at her as he had her trapped beneath him, the manic smile and the undeniable _lust_ and desperate desire that swam in his soft blue eyes as his hands pried open her shirt. Rook got the feeling that John wanted a lot more than just her confession, and she didn’t want to think about the lengths he would go to to get it.

And so she’d run from the valley and into the mountains with Sharky and Hurk by her side. It had seemed like the safer of the two territories. All Jacob had ever wanted from her was to turn her into a mindless killing machine.

Or so she’d thought.

But Jacob’s words as she’d slipped out of his hunters’ grasps after yet another trial left her wondering. 

“ _You managed to escape for a little bit, but whenever I want, I can have you back here with me. But you’ve got time to play your little games, I’ll let you know when it’s time to come home.”_

Disturbing in and of itself, but it was what he said next that chilled her to very core. 

“ _Y’know, Deputy, when all this is done, I might just have to keep you for myself_.” He must have been able to see her, either that or he knew her well enough to expect the horrified expression she wore, because he’d laughed, “ _Aw, don’t look so worried, pup, you and I both know you’ll enjoy whatever I give you. We all have our purposes, and you know yours_.”

Pretty hard to misinterpret that one. 

After that, the Henbane seemed like the best bet. Faith, at least, didn’t seem to want to fuck her, which was a welcome relief. And yet in the her region, more-so than Jacob or John’s, Rook felt Joseph’s presence looming over her, a feeling not helped by the giant fucking statue visible from nearly every corner of this godforsaken region. 

Yet even in the Henbane, Rook knew better than to believe she was safe. Faith might not want to sleep with her, but she would do her absolute best to deliver Rook to Joseph as an act of devotion, and God only knew what the Father would do to keep her by his side.

And while the thought of Jacob or John getting their hands on her was terrifying enough, the thought of ending up at the mercy of Joseph Seed was somehow infinitely worse. 

“So what’s the plan, ladybug?” Hurk asked, plopping down on the seat beside her and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of them. 

Rook just let her head fall back against the couch with a melodramatic groan as she shook her head, “I have no fucking clue, Hurk, and right now I’m too sober for this shit.”

Addie just grinned, “Well why didn’t you say so, honey? Pretty sure I got some whiskey hidin’ round here somewhere!”


	20. Jacob/Rook - Dear Diary

Dear Diary, it’s been three days since I last wrote. I can’t remember the last two, and that terrifies me. I know I was in the Valley, and I thought I was safe there. Well, safe from him, at least, John was another issue entirely. He’s never crossed territory lines before, or maybe he didn’t have to. I don’t know what happened, how he got to me. I can’t remember _anything_.

Sharky and Boomer found me lying in the middle in the woods, halfway up the mountains. It looked like a murder scene - I was covered in blood and more was pooled on the ground around me, my clothes were torn and filthy, and yet there weren’t any bodies in sight. 

That should have terrified me, and it did, but what disturbed me even more was that when Sharky found me, I was snuggled in a blanket, like someone had taken the time to tuck me in after I’d fallen unconscious. It could have been anyone, but I know it was _him_. He was there, he could have put a bullet in my skull, he could have done anything and I would have been powerless to stop him. How long had he been there, watching me sleep? Why had he given me the blanket? Was it just to unnerve me (mission accomplished, asshole), or was there something else at work? 

The way he looks at me, there’s something strange in his eyes. It’s not the desire or the way he stares at me like I’m his prey and he wants to eat me right up (he makes no attempt to hide either). It’s like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out, but he just can’t get enough. It’s downright terrifying.

Sharky keeps staring at me when he thinks I can’t see. I know he’s scared, so am I. He’s trying to keep my spirits up, he said that maybe it had only been animals this time, there were no bodies after all, or maybe I hadn’t hurt anyone, and it was just _his_ psychotic attempt to mess with me. But I don’t think either of us believe that. He promises he’s not going anywhere. We’re ride or die, he says. He tells me he won’t stop until Jake and Bake is six feet under and every copy of that song is obliterated from the face of the earth. He sounds like he actually means it. I don’t deserve him, really. 

He’s asleep now, and I should be too, but I can’t sleep. I washed the blood away in the stream, but I can still see it under my nails, dripping from my hands. How many people did I slaughter? Were they resistance? Eli’s men? Peggies? Maybe they were just innocent people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I guess that Jacob cleared the bodies so I wouldn’t know, well aware that it would make it 1000 times worse. What if it was kids? There are families up here with children… oh god.

It feels like I’m a puppet and he’s holding my strings. I can’t do anything but dance when he wants me to. With a few notes, I’m gone and I become a monster. What if it’s Sharky next time? If I hurt my friends… I don’t think I could live with myself. I sometimes wonder if it might be better if I take myself out of the equation altogether. I know he’s planning something big. He’s playing with me now, but there’s a greater purpose and I have an awful feeling that I know what it is. 

He has me in his control, more than John or Faith ever could. He hasn’t broken me, not yet, but he doesn’t have to. Jacob Seed has me right where he wants me, and I can’t do a goddamned fucking thing about it. If this has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not safe, no matter where I run.

He radioed me, about half an hour ago. It was on my private frequency, a frequency he shouldn’t have known about. 

He told me how proud he was of me, how _magnificent_ I’d been for him. Before he hung up he told me to get a good nights sleep because he’d be seeing me _real soon_.

I’m so fucking scared of what he’s gonna make me do.


	21. John/Rook - A kiss to distract

There was so much blood - her hands were slick with it, her clothes stained beyond repair. But it didn’t matter, she couldn’t focus on that, nor the whimpering gasps of the man in her arms. No, Rook had to concentrate on stemming the bleeding until John came back and they could get help.

His name was Mark, and in truth she’d barely known him. He was always friendly, well, as friendly as he could be without risking John’s jealous ire, but he was nice. A good man, honest and loyal. He believed in Joseph’s cause, and the day that John had assigned him as her personal guard Mark had promised her that he would gladly lay his life down to protect her.

Rook remembered smiling and telling him that while she appreciated the thought, it was unlikely to ever come to that.

When the shot was fired, he hadn’t even hesitated before knocking her into the ground while John had set off in pursuit. The fight was over before it had truly begun, John’s aim was deadly, and he didn’t show mercy to those who threatened to harm his family

It was only when Rook had rolled over gasping for breath that she’d caught sight of the growing pool of crimson spreading across Mark’s chest and the stunned look on his face. With wide eyes she’d rushed to his side, shrugging off her jacket to press it tightly against the wound, whispering soft reassurances that he would be fine, that it wasn’t as bad as it looked and that they’d get him help so long as he just _held on_.

Rook didn’t hear John come up behind her, and when he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder she jumped.

“Rook…”

She just shook her head with fierce determination, readjusting her grip on her blood soaked jacket and pressing even harder. “The car - see if there’s a med kit, or if not then check the bodies for anything we can use.”

He sighed softly, kneeling down on the dirt beside her. “Rook, my dear, it’s too la-”

“John, just do what I say! I need a goddamned med kit!” she snapped.

She was only met with silence.

Her eyes were fixed on the wound on Mark’s chest, but she refused to notice that it no longer rose or fell with shallow breaths. She was painfully aware of John’s continued presence by her side, and with every second that passed her anger grew, until it burst like a dam and she screamed in frustration. “What the fuck are you waiting for?! He’s bleed-”

Her words were swallowed as John took her face in his hands and kissed her with a gentleness that made her heart want to shatter. It was only brief, but when he pulled away there was such profound sorrow and _pity_ in his eyes as he stared at her that it made her stomach sink and her blood run cold. 

His thumbs brushed away the tears she wasn’t aware had fallen and he pressed his forehead against hers as his eyes fluttered shut. “Darling… he’s already gone. There’s nothing you can do for him anymore… and I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here, we have to move.”

His words broke the spell, and with a trembling breath, Rook finally allowed herself to look up at his face. Mark’s skin looked almost grey, his jaw slack, but it was the cold emptiness in his glazed over eyes that hit her like a knife. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him without a smile before.

Mark was dead, and he’d died taking a bullet that was meant for _her_. He’d done exactly what he’d promised her he would, all those months ago.

Rook wailed with the realisation and John’s arms tightened around her as he held her close, refusing to let go even as she shuddered against him.

“But he-he…”

John’s lips once again pressed against her cheek, and then again and again, as if, if he tried hard enough, he could kiss away her pain entirely. “I know, darling, I know, you did all that you could, but we can’t stay here, my dear. It’s not safe. We have to leave him. We have to go.”

With tears still in her eyes and sobs heaving from her chest, Rook allowed John to tug her to her feet, and together they ran.


	22. Joseph/Rook - You're Satan

“Rook?” John said, cracking the door open just enough to stick his face through. His hand was still throbbing from the last time he’d come too close. He was wearing that same, slightly panicked smile, the calmness in his voice a touch too forced to be believable. “Joseph’s here, do you want to see him?”

Rook glared at him. “NO! It’s his fault I’m in this stupid mess!” She went to say something else, but her words were swallowed by a howl as another contraction hit her. John winced as she writhed on the bed, her hands fisting the sheets, “Where is the fucking doctor?!”

John swallowed and took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, “She _is_ coming, uh, but she’s not here… yet.” She should have been there two hours ago. The call that the Father’s wife had gone into labour early _should_ have been a priority, and yet the Project’s top doctor still hadn’t arrived.

Rook only wailed. 

John’s fake smile started to unravel as he stared at his sister in law. Once upon a time he would have enjoyed the sight of Rook, breathless and pained and so very, very vulnerable before him. But she was his family now, one of the few people he could honestly say that he loved and who loved him in return, and seeing her like that made his stomach twist into knots. “Do you need anything? Can I help?”

Rook gasped, “I-I need- FUCK! I need the doctor, John! I need the doctor, I need painkillers and I need this fucking baby out of me!” 

He nodded quickly, “You know what? I’m going to go see how far away she is.” He went to pull his head back out, but a sudden thought made him pause, “Do you- do you want Bliss for the pain?”

Rook’s eyes widened, “Will it hurt-” she glanced down at the prominent bulge of her stomach. 

John bit his lip. “I honestly don’t know… I’ll find out. I’ll be back soon,” he promised, easing himself out of the room and shutting the door softly behind him.

When he walks down into the living room where his brothers are waiting, he doesn’t miss the way that Joseph’s hands are gripping his knees, his fingers like claws. The moment they hear him, both Jacob’s and Joseph’s eyes snap towards him and Joseph shot to his feet. 

Oh, how John wanted the earth to swallow him up whole. “She doesn’t want you in there.” The way that Joseph’s expression fell plucked at John’s heart strings and before he could help himself, he added, “Yet. Give her time, Joe. Rook’ll come around.”

Joseph nodded with a sigh, easing himself back into his seat. Unlike John, and no doubt Jacob, both of whom would barge into that room whether Rook wanted them there or not, Joseph would respect her wishes, even if it went against every instinct he had. 

“What about Bliss, just until the doctor gets he-” 

“No.” It wasn’t Joseph that interrupted him, but Jacob, staring down his little brother with a hard glint in his eyes. “Not a fucking chance. That shit’s not going anywhere near Rook or the baby.”

John glanced at Joseph, it was his wife and child they were talking about after all. After a torturously long moment, he nodded. “Jacob’s right. I won’t risk Rook or our daughter.”

And that was that. There was nothing left to do but wait until the doctor arrived.

Another hour ticked by, and still no sign of the doctor.

Upstairs, Rook was struggling. Every contraction was more painful than the last and she was scared, Rook was so fucking scared. People _died_ in childbirth, so many things could go wrong. 

As another contraction tore through her she screamed out a single word, barely comprehensible.

Joseph burst through the door not a moment later, falling to his knees at her side before she can even think to speak.

“I’m here, my love, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, taking her hand as she collapsed back against the bed, utterly spent and yet still with so far to go. “You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”

Breathlessly, Rook turned her head to glare at him, though in her exhausted state it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she hoped. “You’re satan. I hate you,” she panted.

Joseph just laughed, even as her grip on his hand tightened, “I know you don’t mean that.“ He brushed the hair away from her sweaty forehead, pressing a chaste kiss against her clammy skin, “You must stay strong for me and our daughter, you can do that can’t you, darling?”

Rook nodded, “I love you.”

Joseph’s answering smile was breathtaking, “I know you do. I love you, so very much. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”


	23. Jacob & Rook - She's hiding behind the sofa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically it's a John/Rook pairing but it's more focusing on Jacob and Rook so... enjoy

Rook stalked into the the main living room of the Ranch, her body tensed and eyes alert. She scanned the room for any sign of anything out place, her finger poised on the trigger of her gun.

“You can run, but you can’t hide. I _will_ find you,” she crooned out with a smile. She did so love the thrill of the chase. Victory was gonna be _sweet_.

At the sound of footsteps behind her, Rook whirled to draw her gun on the intruder only to let out a disappointed sigh when she realised it was just Jacob. 

The eldest Seed regarded her with an amused smirk. “Really, Rook? You’re seven months pregnant.”

She narrowed her eyes at her brother in law. “What of it? It’s a nerf campaign, Jacob, not a war zone. We asked you if you wanted to join in, and you said no.” 

He huffed out a chuckle, “Because I distinctly remember John mentioning something about ‘bed rest’, pup.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well what John doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he’s being an over-protective mother hen, all the doc said to do was take it easy and avoid strenuous activities, this is _hardly_ a strenuous activity,” she said, waving around her nerf gun for emphasis.

For a moment his eyes narrowed, and Rook wondered if he was going to try and escort her back to her room (he had before, he was almost as bad as John and she was under no illusions that the only reason he was here today was to keep an eye on her while John was busy), but he just shook his head with a long suffering sigh. “If you’re looking for Lily, she’s hiding behind the sofa in the back room.”

Rook’s face lit up with a bright smile, “Thank you… _snitch._ ” She shot him a wink as she breezed past him in search of her daughter. 

True enough, when Rook crept into the back room she was greeted with muffled giggles. 

“Surrender, girl. You’re surrounded,” she called out, aiming her gun at the couch where she could just see two little feet peeking out. 

“I would rather die than turn myself over to you,” Lily called back.

Rook just sighed, stalking forward. “I was afraid you’d say that, but if that’s what you want…”

She pulled the trigger just as her daughter leaped from her hiding place. Her foam bullet hit her daughter in the chest, while Lily’s went wide. “Such a shame. You should know not to go up against a sharp shooter like your mum,” she said with a grin.

Her daughter just laughed, dropping her gun to wrap her arms around her mother’s waist, mindful of her _very_ pregnant stomach. “How did you find me, you were on the opposite side of the house for _ages_.”

“Your uncle’s a snitch.”

The mock outrage on Lily’s face made Rook chuckle. “That… that - I trusted him!”

“Well you know what a betrayal like that requires?”

Lily’s head cocked in confusion. “What?”

Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Revenge.”

The plan was simple - a brutal full frontal assault.

Jacob was back in the living room, studying the reports his men had prepared for him. Even immersed as he was trained to keep his other senses alert. He heard Rook and Lily approach, but he paid them no mind, assuming they were still playing their little war games. 

That turned out to be a mistake, because when the two burst into the room he could only drop his reports as his niece launched herself at him with a snarl. He caught her by the waist, but wasn’t quick enough to stop the wet finger that made its way into his ear.

“Jesus Christ, kid!” he shouted, ducking his head away with a shudder as Lily collapsed into a pile of giggles on his lap. 

“It was mum’s idea!” she laughed, pointing an accusatory finger at Rook.

Jacob didn’t doubt her for a moment. That wicked grin on her face told him as much. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You can’t just give me wet-willies,” he chastised, but even he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He turned his attention back to Rook. “You, come here,” he ordered.

Smugly Rook waddled her way over to his side, ever the un-repentant sinner. 

“Sit,” he said, shifting Lily to one side of his lap so that there was space for Rook beside him. Obediently she took the seat, sighing at the relief of finally taking the weight off of her feet. Perhaps she had over done it a little today. Beside her Jacob shot her a look that read, _Told ya so_ but she pointedly ignored it, shutting her eyes and letting her head fall against his shoulder.

That was how John found them an hour later. Rook, fast asleep against his brother’s side, his daughter perched on his knee, her face buried in a book. He just smiled, life was good.


	24. John/Rook - I don't want you to stop

The rain was coming down hard outside, thunder rumbling loudly and lightning cracking through the dark sky. Rook smiled as she stared out the window from the kitchen in the Ranch.

“I don’t know why you love this weather so much, darling. It’s cold, wet and miserable,” John murmured as he came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

Rook just rolled her eyes good-naturedly, twisting around in his arms so she could face him. “Oh? And are you cold, wet and miserable right now?” she asked, standing up on her tippy toes to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. As she pulled away John made a noise of distress, tightening his hold around her waist and recapturing her lips, deepening the kiss with an indulgent smile. 

“No,” he said when the need for air finally broke them apart. “But I had plans today, plans which have since been cancelled due to this,” he gestured at the window emphatically, like it had personally offended him, “Weather!”

Rook just laughed. “ _Affirmation_ isn’t going anywhere, John. It won’t kill you to spend one day firmly on the ground. Besides,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “Is spending the day inside with me truly that bad?”

Like a switch flipped, John’s expression changed, a charming smirk spreading across his face as his eyes darkened with undeniable lust as his hands slipped from her waist to cup the swell of her ass. “Not at all, in fact, I have a few ideas about how we can pass the time on this cold, miserable, rainy day,” he purred.

“Me too,” she said, leaning up to bring her lips to his ear, “I’m gonna _bake_. I’m thinking cinnamon rolls, what do you think?” She had to bite her lip as she pulled away and saw the unamused expression on his face. “But I’m sure you can find something to keep yourself occupied for an hour or so.” She kissed him once more and slipped from his arms with a soft chuckle.

“Tease,” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his words. He leaned back against the kitchen counter as he watched her gather ingredients, humming as she went. “Cinnamon rolls sound delightful,” he murmured eventually, and the beaming smile he was rewarded almost made him melt a little bit.

***

John was lying draped across the love seat in the living room when Rook wandered out from the kitchen, his face buried in a book. Outside the storm was still raging, but with the fire going and the smell of cinnamon wafting through the Ranch, it was perfectly cosy inside.

At the sound of her approach John looked up, “Buns?” he asked.

“In the oven. They should be ready in a half hour or so,” she replied, making her way over to the lone armchair next to the love seat where he lay. But as she made to sit down his hand caught at her wrist, tugging her back towards him. Wordlessly he shifted so that there was space for her to join him on the love seat.

“I have to get back up soon to make the frosting,” she reminded him as he pulled her down to lie beside him.

John wriggled until she was comfortably curled up against him. “Frosting can wait,” he said, kissing her once on her cheek as he picked up his book and resumed reading. 

“You gonna let me back up anytime soon?” she asked.

John hummed noncommittally, “Hadn’t planned on it, better get comfortable, my dear.”

Rook wasn’t quite sure whether this was John’s idea of payback, or whether he truly just wanted to cuddle while he had the chance, but either way she figured he’d meant what he’d said. He wouldn’t let her up until he was good and ready.

Not that she minded. Quite the opposite, between his warmth, the soft, comforting crackling of the fire and the sound of thunder and sleet-like rain pounding against the roof, Rook was quite content. 

At some stage John’s head had managed to find its way into her lap. Her fingers were slowly running through his hair while she hummed quietly to herself, a lullaby her grandmother used to sing for her when she was a little girl. Every so often John would make a pleased noise and nuzzle against her touch and she’d smile in response. Neither of them spoke, content merely to relax in each other’s presence and listen to the storm.

The shrill ringing of the timer startled them both, but as Rook turned off the alarm, John made no move to let her up.

Rook pointedly cleared her throat, but nevertheless continued to stroke John’s hair, knowing even then that getting John to relinquish his hold on her was going to be an uphill battle.

“John?” she prodded after a minute had passed and he showed no sign of shifting.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he muttered eventually, his voice soft and needy, like the little boy scared of asking his parents for the love he deserved. Even now, two years into their relationship, John clung to every touch like it was a gift, one that might suddenly be snatched away without a moment’s notice.

She sighed, curling up slightly to brush her lips against the crown of his head. “You do realise if I don’t get up and take the buns out of the oven they _will_ burn,” she reminded him gently.

John just shrugged, entirely unbothered by the fact. “Let them burn. Stay with me, please?”

Rook really did love rainy days.


	25. Jacob/Rook - I could punch you right now

Rook had a sense of humour, she did. Her sense of humour revolved around things that were actually funny, like stupid pictures and witty one liners and occasionally a dirty joke or two (or three, Rook couldn’t help herself sometimes). Harmless and hilarious, that was Rook’s style of humour.

For a long time Rook didn’t realise that Jacob Seed _had_ a sense of humour. Yeah, his sarcasm and dry banter sometimes made her snort, but that was about it. Jacob didn’t really seem to enjoy making people laugh the same way that Rook did. 

Nor did he seem to find _her_ all that funny, which was frankly insulting.

Just once, Rook wanted to make him laugh. Not his usual amused snorts, or the occasional dry chuckle, no, Rook wanted to see Jacob’s absolutely broken, unable to breathe, tears streaming down his face kind of laugh.

And yet, no matter how many hilarious jokes she told, no matter what she did, Jacob would just raise a single eyebrow, as if her attempts were slightly sad, if not adorable. 

“Pup, give it up. You’re just not as funny as you think you are, accept it,” Jacob had sighed, wrapping her up in his arms.

Rook had narrowed her eyes and scoffed, “Please! You wouldn’t know funny if it bit you on the ass. You are the only person I’ve ever met with _zero_ sense of humour.” It wasn’t entirely true, Rook was pretty sure that Joseph was also severely lacking in that department, but that wasn’t the time to bring it up.

Rook should have known by the way that Jacob’s lips quirked into a smirk that she had dug herself into a hole she might not be able to get out of, but she didn’t. Hindsight was 20/20, after all.

“You want to see funny? I can show you funny, pup,” was all Jacob said as he pressed a kiss against her lips and pulled her down to the bed beside him.

In all honesty, Rook forgot all about his vaguely ominous threat of humour the very next morning, going about her business without a care in the world, entirely unaware that while it might have slipped her mind, it certainly hadn’t slipped Jacob’s.

***

A little over a week later, Rook was halfway through washing her hair when the vent above her suddenly swung open, and down poured hundreds of small, black spiders.

Rook screamed like a banshee, furiously twisting and writhing to shake off any that had landed on her. Some part of her distantly recognised that the spiders weren’t real, that they were little more than furry bits of plastic, but in her panicked terror Rook couldn’t comprehend that tiny, insignificant detail. 

Desperately she whirled, yanking open the door to the shower and sprinting out as fast as her legs could carry her, slipping slightly on the tile floors. Naked and still shrieking, Rook barrelled out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, still frantically trying to shake off any lingering spiders from her wet body.

It’s only when the sound of howling laughter finally broke through her panic that she stopped in her tracks and turned to find Jacob sitting on their bed, bent over double, wheezing with laughter as tears leaked from his eyes.

Naked, dripping wet with half washed hair, she stilled as absolute fury began to wash through her. Rook had never wanted to kill a man so badly in her life before, and that was saying something. 

“You’re a fucking asshole, and I hope you die painfully,” she snapped, turning on her heel and marching back into the bathroom to grab her towel.

When she returned, hair rinsed and bound in a towel, with another wrapped around her body Jacob had managed to calm himself down slightly, but the grin on his face was all too smug for her liking.

“How was that funny?” she growled out, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. 

Jacob seemed entirely unperturbed by her scowl. If anything, it only made that stupid grin widen as amusement danced across his piercing blue eyes. “Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humour, honey? I personally thought it was hilarious.”

If looks could kill, Jacob would be so, _so_ dead.

“I could punch you right now. No, I _want_ to punch you, really fucking hard, right in your stupid face.”

Her threats don’t have their intended effect. The amusement in his eyes faded, but it was replaced with something hungry, something _sinful_.

“S’that so, pup? Sounds like I really scared you, how ‘bout I make it up to you, hm?” he said, standing up from the bed and making his way slowly to her.

Despite the residual anger that was still pumping through her veins, Rook couldn’t deny the way his words made her shiver and a flicker of heat bloom in her core. She didn’t step away as Jacob’s hands pulled the towel away from her body, nor she protest when he drew her into his arms, his mouth finding hers and claiming it with fierce determination.

***

Hours later, a breathless and spent Rook and Jacob collapsed back onto their bed. 

For a moment, it was all Rook could do to bask in the afterglow and fight to slow her racing heart. But when Jacob turned to once again pull her into his arms, Rook stopped him with a hand on his bicep. “If you ever, _ever_ pull a prank like that on me again, I’ll castrate you with a dull, rusty knife.”

Jacob’s eyes just gleamed as a wide smirk lit up his face. “God, I love you.”


	26. Joseph/Rook - Kissing in secret

****Rook’s life would be so much easier if things were black and white. Once, not too long ago, Rook was certain that she knew what was right and what was wrong. She _knew_ that what Joseph Seed and his brothers were doing was wrong and that he needed to be brought to justice by whatever means necessary.

She’d seen the video of him gouging out that poor man’s eyes, she’d heard the stories from her colleagues and the people of Hope County. Joseph Seed might act like a benevolent shepherd but he was capable of horrifying acts of violence. As much as he’d have her believe that his Project championed forgiveness and salvation, it was built on a foundation of blood, agony and death. Lord only knew how many times Joseph had looked the other way, or worse, condoned the needless bloodshed his brothers and sisters wrought. 

Joseph was a contradiction - as much as it would make Rook’s life easier if he were nothing but a bloodthirsty maniac rending his way through Hope County, he wasn’t. 

Rook truly believed that Joseph wanted to help people. She’d seen with her own eyes the kindness and love in his eyes as he spoke to his flock. He didn’t judge, never held anyone’s past against them. Joseph took the unwanted, the ugly and the unloved and welcomed them with open arms. Sinners, wretches, degenerates, Joseph forgave them their past misdeeds and blessed them with the love of the Father. He was caring and soft and gentle and so impossibly kind to those who needed it. 

He’d offered her that same redemption time and time again.

Faith, Jacob, John - Rook understood their unwavering loyalty to their brother, even when he was so far from the saintly paragon of virtue that his flock claimed him to be. 

She’d tried to arrest him, spent days on end wreaking a path of havoc and mayhem through the County, killed his faithful, destroyed silos, beacons and shrines and liberated countless cult outposts. He had every right to hate her, to want her head on a platter, or at the very least want her removed from the picture, and yet Joseph didn’t despise her, nor did he wish her harm.

He loved her.

Or at least those were the words he whispered against her skin between breathless kisses that trailed down her neck and burned with such heavenly fire.

Men had told her as much before, and more than a few of them were lying. Joseph wasn’t, and that _terrified_ her. It wasn’t some school yard crush, or a passing fancy, he didn’t do anything half-heartedly. Yes, he loved her as the Father with all the mercy and unending forgiveness that came part and parcel, but he also loved her as Joseph Seed - the man who gladly sacrificed those who stood in the way of the future that he believed God had promised him, the same future where she stood by his side through it all.

If she had a lick of sense about her, Rook would run. She would turn tail and get as far away from Hope County and the Project at Eden’s Gate and forget all about Joseph Seed and those piercing blue eyes of his. 

Joseph was the reason her friends were being held. He was the reason the County was at war with itself. He was the reason Rook’s life had been turned upside down. 

And yet she couldn’t turn her back and run.

She could lie to herself and say that it was the principle of the matter, or that she was fighting to save her friends and do the right thing, but lying to herself wasn’t going to do any favours. She stayed for Joseph, because she couldn’t bear to leave him.

And if Joseph was a contradiction then Rook was a dichotomy. 

She still kicked cultist ass on a daily basis (in her defence, they _were_ trying to kill her) but at night, when her friends slept she slipped away, only returning in the early hours of the morning.

If Sharky, Hurk or Jess ever noticed how tired she always seemed to be, they never mentioned it. She had a feeling that maybe Sharky and Hurk wouldn’t mind so much if they knew her secret, but Jess would gut her if she had so much as a clue where Rook disappeared to every night. For her the world was black and white. In her eyes Joseph Seed was a monster and he and his brothers needed to be put in the ground.

It had started with radio calls, not the taunting, vaguely threatening and bordering on flirtatious messages his brothers broadcast to the entire County, these were private, for her ears alone. Every night at exactly the same time without fail.

She’d thought he would chastise her, berate her, but he didn’t. At first he told her stories from his childhood. Some were awful and made her want to weep, but others made her laugh and smile and her heart fill with joy. It was hard to look at Jacob or John and see nothing but an enemy when she knew about the time when he and Jacob had put on a shadow puppet show to try and get baby John to fall asleep one night. He asked about her as well - was someone tending to her wounds? Was she eating enough? Resting when time allowed?

If Rook hadn’t known better, she might have thought him genuinely concerned.

He didn’t push her to reply. He knew she was listening of course, but he never pressed her to speak, it was enough that she was there.

At some point, Rook had begun to talk back, slowly at first - short, clipped one word answers to well meaning questions, but as they days flew past, bleeding into one another, she began to open up and his nightly calls stopped being a curiosity and became something that she looked forward to.

She didn’t have to lie with Joseph, never had to pretend to be any more or less than she was. The day she broke down over the radio to him was the first time he asked to see her. 

The better, more sensible part of her brain screamed that it was a trap, and yet she went anyway, walking right into his arms. He did nothing but comfort her that night, his hands running up and down her back, humming a quiet lullaby to soothe her as she sobbed against his bare chest, and as the sun rose the next morning he allowed her to slip away from him, though she could see it pained him to do so. He asked if she would come back, and after a long moment, Rook had simply nodded.

Two months had passed since then, and every night Rook slipped from whatever camp they’d made to be with him in secret. Or at least secret to her friends and the Resistance, Rook was almost positive that Jacob, John and Faith all knew about her nightly rendezvous with the Father, if their teasing broadcasts were anything to go by.

Every moment she spent with him the lines became more and more blurred, and yet when she was wrapped up in his embrace, his hands worshipping her as he murmured sweet declarations of love and adoration between tender kisses Rook couldn’t find it in her heart to walk away.

She loved him, for better or worse.

And she knew that there were no happy endings - at some point she’d have to make a choice. Joseph or the Resistance. Eden’s Gate or the lives of her colleagues. The Seed’s or her new found friends. 

Was it so wrong of her to want to put that day off for as long as possible? She hated lying to her friends, but she couldn’t bear to give up Joseph either, not when he was the only thing that was keeping her sane. Not when she loved him like she did.

She must have been distracted that night, for when Joseph’s fingers tilted her chin to meet his gaze his face was pinched in a frown, his blue eyes studying her face intently. 

“Is something wrong, my love?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his warm palm.

Rook just shook her head with a soft, sheepish smile, “No,” she murmured. “Of course not.” 

He clearly didn’t believe her, for when his lips met hers there was an uncharacteristic hesitancy. 

That just wouldn’t do.

Rook deepened the kiss, letting his tongue meld with hers as his other hand tangled in her curls. As his lips moved against hers Rook let her worries wash away, loosing herself in the intoxicating taste of him. She pulled him closer, moaning so sweetly into the kiss, gasping as Joseph’s teeth nipped at her bottom lip. Every ounce of her love, her devotion - she poured it into that kiss. She wanted him to see the stars that she usually did, let him be the one left weak kneed and dazed and unable to think of anything but her. She kissed him like he was redemption - desperate and reverent - only pulling away when her lungs cried out for air, and even then Joseph’s gentle grip kept her from moving too far away from him.

“God, I love you,” he breathed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at his casual blasphemy, and yet even after all this time her heart still sung at his words.

“I love you, too.” Her lips brushed against his once more, chaste and sweet this time. “So very much.”

When the time came, Rook knew what her choice would inevitably be.


	27. Sharky/Rook - Choose me

Sharky Boshaw had never been the brightest bulb in the box, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was up.

Rook could fool damn near everybody, but she couldn’t fool him. Maybe it was because she didn’t try so hard with him anymore (they were Best Friends after all), or maybe he just knew her better than the others did, but he could tell that she was lying to him. 

The thing was, Sharky’d been lied to a lot in his life, mostly because people thought he was too stupid to understand the truth (or just that he wasn’t worth it), but he never let it bother him. He had thick skin and Sharky Boshaw didn’t give a damn what the world thought of him, but with Rook it fucking _hurt_. From the moment she’d hurtled into his life with her rifle in hand and that badass grin on her face that just screamed trouble, Sharky knew they were gonna get on like a house on fire. Rook never treated him like he was stupid, never laughed at him when he said something unintentionally dumb. Hell, Rook had some of the most awesome dudes in the resistance lining up to fight by her side and yet she picked him every time.

Rook trusted Sharky to have her back, and he took that responsibility seriously.

She was his best friend, maybe his only friend (Hurk was family, he didn’t count). 

And yeah, maybe he wanted it to be more. Rook was the most incredible woman Sharky had ever met. Obviously, she was hot, but she was funny and she laughed at his jokes and she could almost singlehandedly take down a cult outpost by herself without breaking a sweat. Her aim was deadly, she could drink the best of them under the table and she wasn’t exactly a princess about getting her hands dirty. Rook was as close to the perfect woman as a girl could be, and she actually liked having him around. How was he not supposed to fall for that?

He knew she was too good for him, knew she’d probably not even considered him like that, especially not with guys like John Seed wanting to get in her pants (batshit insane or not, Sharky could admit that John was one good looking dude). There weren’t really any other women like the Dep, but if there were, they weren’t the kind who ended up with guys like Sharky. That was fine, Sharky didn’t care about that - Rook’s friendship meant the fucking world to him, it wasn’t a damned consolation prize.

And as his best friend, Rook was supposed to be open, honest and truthful. That’s how friendships worked.

But she wasn’t being open and honest at all. Rook was lying to him, keeping things from him. Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but even more than that? It made him nervous. Because Rook never held anything back. She told him when the shit was about to hit the fan, _he_ was the one who she went to when she felt like she was at breaking point. 

Which made her sudden change all that much more worrisome, because what could possibly be so bad that she couldn’t confide in him?

It wasn’t obvious by any means, but Sharky saw the signs. He noticed her pulling away from him, but when he asked her what was wrong she plastered that fake ass smile across her face and brushed him off. 

_“It’s fine, Sharky. All good.”_

But he knew that it clearly wasn’t. 

There wasn’t much he could do about it though. No matter how hard he pushed (or how drunk he got her) Rook wouldn’t let him in, and it bothered the fuck out of him.

The rational part of him (the part he usually ignored) told him that it would only be a matter of time before she fessed up and told him the truth, he just had to wait her out. Whatever it was that was bothering her, and why she was keeping it from him, he got the feeling that it wasn’t because she was being malicious. No, the look in her eyes when she thought he wasn’t paying attention wasn’t any kind of mean-spirited amusement at his expense, no Rook looked scared. 

And so he started paying a bit more attention. He caught her slipping away from him in the dead of night when she thought he was asleep, radio in hand. Sometimes she was gone for hours at a time, other nights it would only be ten or fifteen minutes. Regardless, whenever she came back she looked exhausted, the kind he knew had nothing to do with being tired.

She never went to sleep straight after either - Rook would sit with her head in her hands until sleep forcibly claimed her. Sometimes he heard her sobbing, and those were the nights he had to fight his impulses to leap up and comfort her. His best friend was hurting, and she wouldn’t tell him _why_.

But Sharky was willing to bet any amount of money that she wasn’t talking to Eli or Jerome when she left to take those radio calls.

Rook could fool damned near anybody, but she couldn’t fool him. 

When she told him her plan to meet up with all the others at the 8-Bit Pizza Bar he was all for it. Rook had a plan to end this cult bullshit once and for all, and she needed all of their help to get it done. For a moment Sharky was almost too damn relieved to notice the slight tremor in her hands or the tension in the set of her shoulders. Either Rook was about to announce a suicide plan, or something else was going on.

When she revealed that she wanted Sharky to head there by himself while she ran a quick errand for Dutch, and his spidey senses started tingling.

“You’re gonna meet us there though, right Shorty?” he asked with a sick feeling churning away in his stomach. 

The too-tight smile that Rook gave him in response didn’t meet her eyes, and her blasé, “Yeah, of course,” didn’t exactly ease his concerns. 

Sharky wasn’t an idiot. 

“Rook-”

She cut him off with a laugh and a wave of her hand, like he was being needlessly worried. “I’ll be there, I promise! Dutch radioed in this morning, said that there was a problem with one of the towers or something?” She shrugged, “Anyway, he needs me to take a look at it, shouldn’t take too long, but it’ll be easier to duck in and out if it’s just me.”

He knew when he was being lied to.

His palms were sweating, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at her, “Shorty, whatever it is you’re planning - it’s not worth it. Don’t do it, or at least not alone. Please, I’m beggin’ you.” He wasn’t exactly one to initiate physical affection, but his mind was screaming at him to throw his arms around her, hold her tight and not let go for anything. 

The muscles in her jaw twitched, but otherwise her fake ass smile remained. “I said I’ll be there, scouts honour.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he reached up and gripped it with both of his like it was a lifeline.

“You can’t trust ‘em. Whatever they’ve told you, it’s all bullshit. Please, Po-po, _please_ don’t do this. We’ll figure out another way, fuck - we’ll burn it down; Joseph’s compound, John’s ranch, all of it!”

For a moment her gaze dropped to the floor, but when she looked back up at him her smile had finally slipped, replaced by a look of hopeless desolation that knocked the wind right out of him.

“I don’t have a choice, Sharky. They’re proposing a ceasefire - I turn myself in and this all stops, the kidnappings, the torture, the murder, the fighting. How the fuck can I say no to that?”

He threw his arms up into the air. “Easily! You have no proof they’ll stick to their word once they have you! And you’re not some fucking lamb to be traded and sacrificed for the greater good, fuck anyone who says otherwise! And have you thought about what they’re gonna do once they have you, huh? What if they kill you, or turn you into a fucking angel or something worse?! They’re liars, Rook.”

A silent tear spilled down her cheek as she took her other hand and cupped his cheek. With horrifying clarity, Sharky finally understood. She didn’t think that it mattered what happened to her, so long as they were safe. She accepted that she might be walking to her death or a fate so much worse. “Shark, I don’t have a choice,” she choked out.

It disgusted him, the thought of _his_ Rook at the mercy of the Seeds. He was almost certain that they wouldn’t kill her, not straight away at least. No, those sick fucks would do so much worse - they’d corrupt her, warp her, ruin her. Joseph could preach his salvation all he liked, Sharky knew damned well their interest in Rook didn’t come from a place of goodness or purity.

And suddenly Sharky couldn’t help himself. He seized her waist and pulled her against him, his lips crashing against hers. It wasn’t particularly gentle or sweet, but Sharky poured every inch of his love and desperation into that kiss, if only for the briefest of moments. When he broke away, breathing hard, his blue eyes flashed to meet hers as he held her close. “Yes you do. _**Choose me**_. Choose to fight instead of giving into those fuckers. We can win this, Dep. Please…”

Rook laughed but it was broken and agonised and all it did was tear him apart. Her fingers caressed his cheek and more tears spilled from her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his. “You think I don’t want to? I love you, Sharky, and I have to do this to make sure you’re safe, that my _family_ is safe. They’ll stop, I believe that, I have to, because otherwise there’s nothing but death and pain and misery. What if tomorrow its you? Or Nick? Or Hurk? I won’t lose you. I can’t.”

She _loved_ him.

Once upon a time, hearing those words from her lips would have made his damned week, but right now it only made everything worse, because she was still going to walk away and leave him. Instinctively his arms tightened around her, as if he’d be able to keep her there with him if he held on tight enough.

He captured her lips in another desperate kiss, groaning softly when she returned his affection. “If you think for one fucking minute I’m gonna let you do this, you’ve got another thing comin’ sweetheart,” he grunted when they broke for air.

Again, she chuckled, though it sounded more like a sob, wrenched from some place deep inside of her. 

“No, I know you too well for that. I _really_ didn’t want to have to do this.” 

Sharky’s brow crinkled in a frown as he pulled away a moment too late. He didn’t know where Rook had managed to get her hands on the powdered Bliss, or where she’d pulled it from, but before Sharky could raise a protest she’d blown it right into his face.

“Please don’t hate me for this,” she murmured as Sharky went boneless in her eyes. “I _am_ choosing you - your life over mine. It’s barely even a choice.” Her lips brushed against his cheek as she laid him down on his makeshift bed. He tried to say something, beg her to stay or yell at her for being reckless and stupid but unconsciousness beckoned, and Sharky was powerless to resist.

It didn’t matter, Rook was already gone.


	28. Jacob/Rook - Hey pal, I've got a knife and I'm not afraid to use it

Jacob had been tracking her for three days. He was surprised and more than a little impressed, because in the state that she was he would have given her half a day on her own, tops. 

She had no food, no water and no weapons save for the stolen hunting knife strapped to her thigh. She was alone and out in the middle of the wilderness of the Whitetail mountains, even those who had experience with the terrain would struggle, but Rook kept going. 

She moved slowly, carefully, her wounds impeding her progress. She was formidable and a force to be reckoned with, but Jacob would like to meet the man (or woman) who wouldn’t be a little slowed down nursing a knife wound over her hip, a sprained ankle and bullet to the shoulder. 

He didn’t know whether she was aware that he was following her, had been since she slipped from his cages and fled after waking up from a particularly gruelling trial. It didn’t really matter one way or the other, Rook kept her eyes forward, never once darting back. She had a single minded focus and even Jacob could respect that. He admired her determination, if nothing else.

Of course it would have been easy for him to take her, he probably wouldn’t have even needed the Bliss bullets he’d preemptively loaded into his pistol. Rook looked so damned vulnerable limping forward like she had any clue of where she was going, he’d barely have to break a sweat to knock her out and bring her back to the Vet Centre. But Jacob wasn’t interested in taking an easy victory. In the state that she was in there was almost no chance of her actually succeeding in getting away from him, and he was curious to see just how much more fight was left in her. 

Or at least that’s what he told himself as he trailed after the injured Deputy.

But it wouldn’t be too much longer. He couldn’t see her face, but her pace had slowed tremendously in the last few hours, and she trembled with every step, hissing and groaning quietly with each footfall. Maybe it was the thirst he knew must have been clawing desperately at her throat that made her fall to her knees on the banks of the Bliss infused water and drink, or maybe she just didn’t notice, too focused on blocking out the pain to see the faint green shimmer in the water. 

Either way, it sealed her fate. His pup was strong, but even she couldn’t fight off the effects of Bliss for too long, and certainly not in the state she was in. That was fine, the drug wouldn’t hurt her, just make her a bit spacey before eventually putting her to sleep for a little while.

And Jacob would bring her home with him. Not to the cages necessarily, he still hadn’t quite made up his mind over what to do with his little Deputy. Once upon a time there had been a plan in place, a plan that Jacob was damned sure would have worked, but plans change. 

Joseph was adamant that the Deputy could be brought around, that Rook would be by their side when the Collapse came, and Jacob might just have been coming round to the idea. Rook was an excellent soldier, but under Jacob’s touch and careful guidance she had the potential to be _so much more_. 

Maybe that was why he’d spent the last three days tracking her when it would have been far easier and less of a hassle just to knock her out and drag her back. 

He watched with a crooked smirk as Rook stumbled forward, the effects of the Bliss clearly starting to take hold. He’d be an idiot to underestimate her though, even in her Blissed out and injured state his pup still had a bite, and while she might not have her favoured rifle, the hunting knife she’d stripped from the guard whose neck she’d snapped on her escape was not just for show. The last trial he hadn’t left her any guns, wanted to see how she’d go thinking on her feet, forced to get close and personal with those trying to kill her. 

He hadn’t been disappointed. With single minded fury and bloodlust, she’d carved through them like butter. Not even the stray bullet that blasted through her shoulder kept her down. She was magnificent.

 _‘She’s special, Jacob,’_ Joseph had said, and maybe his little brother was right.

Rook was a lot of things, but first and foremost she was _Jacob’s_. That much had been decided a long, long time ago. His brothers could deal with it.

And he sure as fuck wasn’t about to let her find her way back to the Resistance. 

He’d been so focused on watching Rook flounder in an effort to keep herself upright and trudging forwards, chuckling quietly to himself as she wobbled to and fro like a newborn kitten trying to find its feet that he missed the presence that was fast approaching - a hunter with his rifle aimed high.

Not at him, he doubted the grizzled old man even realised he was there, but at Rook, stumbling around drunkenly, blood (both hers and her victims) still streaked across her face.

His stomach lurched.

Rook was the poster girl for the resistance, and even before that she’d done a good job establishing herself as the new friendly Deputy in town. People looked up to her, they respected her, but the Hunter didn’t lower his shotgun as he approached, and the hound at his heel was snarling at her, clearly sensing a threat where there wasn’t one.

His Deputy, high off of her mind and unable to realise the danger she was in lurched towards him, arms outstretched. “H-help me. Please, you’ve gotta help me,” she cried, almost falling to the ground when he suddenly backed away. 

“Back off if ya know what’s good for ya, lady,” the hunter growled, his voice like wrought iron; hard and unforgiving. Once upon a time he might have stopped to help her, she was a pretty young thing, clearly in distress, but times had changed, and Hope County had long since crushed any semblance of humanitarianism or kindness. Selflessness got you killed. Only the strong survived, and compassion was for the weak.

The hunter cocked his shotgun, staring down at her like she was nothing more than a rabid animal in need of putting down. An angel, perhaps. A killer undoubtedly, drenched in blood as she was. 

A _threat_ regardless.

Rook paused, her head cocking as she studied the hunter. It took her a few painfully long seconds, but while Jacob couldn’t see her face he could pinpoint the moment that the penny finally dropped. Her body tensed, her arm fumbling for the knife strapped to her thigh.

“Hey, pal, I’ve got a knife and I’m not afraid to use it,” she slurred, finally managing to pull the knife free and wave it around wildly. “Just let me pass. I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

She took another step forward and the hunters finger moved to the trigger. “I’d like to see ya try, girl,” the hunter spat, but he didn’t shoot her, not yet. 

Maybe Rook could take him, and maybe her efforts would land her with a shotgun wound that she wouldn’t be able to walk away from. Either way, Jacob wasn’t going to risk it, not when he’d worked so hard on her, not when she was _his_.

He didn’t hesitate in lifting his own sniper rifle to his shoulder. He lined up his sights and didn’t hesitate to take the shot. His finger squeezed the trigger and the hunter’s head exploded into a mist of red and his body crumpled to the floor. 

Rook’s eyes widened almost comically as she whirled around, the movement unbalancing her and sending her crashing to the ground. She didn’t cry out in pain, though with her ankle the way it was, it had to have hurt. No, the Bliss had numbed her, and he suspected that if she wasn’t unconscious by the time he got to her, she wouldn’t be too far off. Either way, the chase was over, and it was time to bring his girl home, back where she belonged. 

Slinging his rifle back over his shoulder Jacob sauntered his way out from between the trees and made his way to where Rook was lying, curled up on her side in the grass, crooning some soft lullaby that he’d never heard before. He chuckled as he crouched down beside her, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her blood-stained face.

“Jacob,” she breathed, a dreamy smile crossing her face, softening under his calloused touch. “You saved me.” 

Definitely the Bliss talking, but what was the harm in playing along?

Jacob hummed, letting his fingers trail over her soft cheek. “’Course I did. I’d never let anything happen to you, pup. You know that, right?”

Rook nodded in exaggerated slowness, her eyes wide and unfocused, the pupils blown out. 

Jacob grinned. “Good girl, now let’s see about getting you home, hm?”

She made a noise - a quiet, pleased whimper, but she was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. It didn’t really matter, Jacob’s arms were already hauling her up, cradling her against his broad chest. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, pup, don’t you worry about that.”


	29. Joseph/Rook - I feel like I can't breathe

When Rook began to feel the first signs of a cold coming on, she wasn’t exactly surprised. Running on a few hours of sleep, pumped full of coffee and whatever food she could rustle up, looking after herself wasn’t really all that high of a priority. 

But the thing was, Rook didn’t have time to be sick, and she was pretty sure that weaponised sneezing wasn’t the most effective method of bringing down a cult. So she and Sharky had raided some of the general stores in town, grabbing as much DayQuil and NyQuil as they could get their hands on. It was a good plan - dose herself until she felt almost human and could run without hacking up a lung and pray that the cold went away on its own.

Interesting fact that Rook wasn’t aware of - Neither DayQuil nor NyQuil reacted well with Bliss. 

In fact, inhaling the fumes of Bliss while her body was pumped full of cold and flu medicine sparked a rather unpleasant reaction - first came the dizziness, then the blurred vision, followed a loss of bodily control that had her stumbling around like a drunken toddler. Two minutes later Rook was lying unconscious on the banks of the Henbane river.

She _really_ shouldn’t have left Sharky with Hurk at the 8-Bit.

***

The first thing to pierce through her unconscious state was not the fact that she was warm, or lying somewhere soft, or even that both of those things should have sent red flags and big flashing warning lights. No, the first thing that Rook became aware of was the sound of someone humming.

It was a familiar tune, Rook could probably even follow along if her brain wasn’t still swimming in a haze of Bliss. She wanted to open her eyes, but they were just so heavy, and her mouth didn’t seem to be working either. 

She must have made some kind of noise, because the humming suddenly stopped and she heard footsteps approaching. Fingers brushed against her cheek, cupping it gently. They felt soft, loving.

“Shh, my child. You’re safe now. Rest.”

Again, the voice sounded familiar (so warm and kind), but her brain was still too muddled to process who it belonged to. When the blackness beckoned once again, Rook went willingly.

***

The next time that Rook came to it was with much more clarity. 

It was the uncomfortable tickling in her lungs that woke her up and had her almost bent over double as she coughed. She groaned miserably as she collapsed back onto the bed, her head pounding, chest aching and altogether feeling as if she’d been hit by a semi trailer.

Lying against the surprisingly soft pillows, it struck Rook that she was not where she was supposed to be. A quick survey of the room all but confirmed her suspicions. The room, while mostly bare, was clearly lived in. There was a desk up against the wall, covered in notes and bound books - a pen lying haphazardly in amongst the mess. On the wall hung a family portrait - four figures she knew all too well. Slung over the back of the armchair was a grey jacket with white stitching, and she spied a few pairs of boots lined up neatly on a shoe rack by the door. There was a simple but elegantly carved wooden cross hanging from the opposite wall, but the final nail in the coffin was the white Book of Joseph that lay dog eared, bookmarked and clearly well used on the bedside table to her left.

Fucking hell.

As if summoned by her ghastly coughing, Joseph Seed materialised in the doorway with a tray in hand, his lips quirking into an affectionate smile as he caught sight of her. “Ah, you’re awake. That’s good, you were unconscious for quite some time, and I was beginning to grow nervous. How are you feeling, my child?”

Rook had neither the strength nor the willpower to do much more than glare suspiciously as he made his way to her. “Why am I here?” she asked, wincing at the raw scratchiness in her throat.

Joseph set the tray down on the bedside table and took a seat on the bed beside her, pointedly ignoring the way she tried to shift away from him. For a moment he didn’t answer, choosing instead to bring his hand to her forehead to feel whether or not her fever had abated. Rook flinched away from his touch like it burned and he sighed, giving her a disapproving stare, as if she was being childish and stubborn instead of perfectly rational. Nevertheless he dropped his hand, placing it instead on her knee - bundled under the numerous blankets he’d proved to ensure she was warm. 

“One of my faithful found you passed out the river banks and brought you to me. You were lucky, who knows what might have befallen you had they not walked by when they did,” he answered.

Rook just barely refrained from reminding him that the biggest threat to her health and safety was and would remain _his_ people. 

“But _why_?” she croaked, her voice nasally and horrific, even to her own ears. “Why am I not dead, or with Faith or-” She broke off as yet another cough ripped its way from her lungs. Joseph, to his credit, didn’t look disgusted, merely frowning in concern and patting her shoulder comfortingly when she curled in on herself.

“After all this time, you still don’t understand, do you?” His eyes, piercing even behind those god-awful yellow aviators of his, studied her intently. “Or perhaps you do, and you just refuse to acknowledge it.” He shook his head with a wry smile, “God has shown me your path, my child, your true purpose. You belong _here_ , Rook, with my family and I. _He_ has delivered you home to me and I will look after you, _care_ for you, just as I would with any of my family.” 

If she didn’t know better, Rook might have been tempted to think that the tenderness and love that bled through Joseph’s expression as he caressed her face was real, and not just another attempt at manipulation. 

But she didn’t have the strength to fight him, to tell him how batshit crazy he sounded, so she just slumped back against the soft mattress of Joseph’s bed and grumbled. 

He almost looked pleased at her acquiescence. “How are you feeling?” he asked again.

Rook’s eyes narrowed, “I _feel_ like I can’t breathe,” she muttered, and it was the truth. Between a stuffy nose and congested sinuses, Rook was struggling.

Joseph just chuckled, a surprisingly warm and lovely sound, and lifted up the lid of the tray he’d prepared for her. “I don’t doubt it, but I’ve brought up some soup for you, which should help, and water to ease your throat.”

As Joseph gently spoon fed her the soup, he started to hum an all too familiar tune. 

_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…_


	30. Jacob/Rook - You're mine, I don't share

Jacob couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the monitor. The footage, playing on a loop, was only 17 seconds, but it was long enough. 

Eli so very rarely ventured out of the safety of the Wolf’s Den - these days he sent his little toy soldiers out to do his bidding, too important to the ‘greater good’ come out of hiding. He might have every inch of the Whitetails under surveillance, but so too did Jacob. Jacob hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since the Sheriff’s Department had failed in their attempt to arrest his brother. He’d gone to ground, and while Jacob had done his very best to draw him out into the open, Eli refused to play. 

The coward.

Which made it that much more interesting when Jacob spied the ex-soldier scampering through the wilderness. Despite being a rarity, it wasn’t Eli’s sudden appearance that had Jacob engrossed in the footage. No, it had been what Eli had been after that snared the Wolf’s attention. 

Rook.

His little soldier, his pet project, his crowning glory. She’d managed to slip from her cell. He was almost impressed - she was starving, hadn’t had any food in a week, not a drop of water for the last three days. Hardly more than skin and bones, she shouldn’t have been able to snap that guards neck and steal the key, but she did. It was irritating, sure, but Jacob couldn’t find it within him to be mad. She was quick on her feet and surprisingly vicious, he’d give her that. 

Besides, after eight days in his tender care, Rook was weak, tired - she wasn’t going far. Jacob had been content to sit back, let his pup tire herself out and when she dropped like he knew she would, he’d swoop in and bring her right back where she belonged. 

But Eli, Eli had gotten there first. He hadn’t believed it until he saw the footage. Eli, sneaking through the undergrowth in his camo and falling to his knees by Rook’s unconscious side. The footage had been grainy, but Jacob hadn’t missed the way that Eli’s touch lingered on Rook as he checked her vital signs, nor the subtle way his thumb brushed across her cheek as he bent low over her and whispered something that his cameras couldn’t pick up. Eli’s face was obscured from the camera as he lifted Rook up into his arms and darted away, but Jacob didn’t need to see it to know what lay there. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised, not really. One look at Rook and Jacob knew she’d be just Eli’s type. Yeah, she was pretty as a fuckin’ peach, but she had that hero complex - that innate urge to do good and help those who couldn’t help themselves that Eli himself possessed. She had that same idealisation that he did, they were two peas in a fucking pod. He’d known that from the start, it was part of the reason he knew that Rook would be able to worm her way into the heart of the Whitetail militia. 

If Eli had been smart, he would have put a bullet between her eyes the moment he’d found her alive after Jacob’s first trial. She was a threat, tainted by Jacob’s influence, Eli had _known_ that. And yet he’d taken her with them, letting a wolf into the henhouse, all because he was so sure that Rook would do _good_.

Jacob expected him to let down his defences for Rook, he just hadn’t quite thought that Eli Palmer would actually develop _feelings_ for her. Admiration and respect was one thing, but the way he’d touched her - the tenderness with which he’d picked her up and held her against him, no, that wasn’t respect. Even Jacob, as jaded as he was, knew love when he saw it. Again and again he’d watched the footage, studying every frame for the most minute details.

The strategist in him recognised that this turn of events had its benefits. Eli wouldn’t fight back against the woman he loved, not even when she held that gun to his head. He’d try and save her right up until she pulled the trigger and sent his brains flying. 

Eli was a self sacrificing idiot - he’d lead himself to his own death. 

And yet, Jacob didn’t feel any sense of satisfaction as he watched Eli paw at Rook. Oh, he recognised the emotions that stirred in his gut and boiled through his veins well enough, that possessive fury that made him damn near see white. 

A primal part of him wanted to take the remote and shove it through the screen, but Jacob wasn’t one to act impulsively, he had more control than that. His fists clenched at his sides and he ran a tongue over his teeth as he stood. 

Eli didn’t matter, he’d be dead in a matter of weeks, one way or another, even if Jacob had to throttle the life out of him himself. His pup, on the other hand, seemed to need a reminder that while he might give her a longer leash, let her run around the county and play the hero with her weak little friends, she still belonged to him. With that thought in mind, he strode from the room and didn’t look back.

He had to have patience while he waited for Rook to resurface, though that didn’t mean he had to like it. He found other, _suitable_ outlets for his frustrations, all the while he tried not to picture his pup in Eli’s arms as she regained her strength. Peaches, wisely, made himself scarce whenever he wasn’t ordered to be at Jacob’s side.

As the days ticked by, Jacob’s temper didn’t improve, until finally one of his Chosen came to deliver the news - Rook was running, heading for the Valley. He almost scoffed, if she thought she was any safer in his brother’s region than she wasn’t quite as smart as he gave her credit for. John had made no secret of his desire to have the Deputy _confess_. It didn’t matter anyway, Rook wouldn’t make it to the border, much less to the safety of the recently liberated Fall’s End.

No. His pup had been led astray, he needed to take the time to remind her of her purpose and her place. He’d been too lenient, too lax with her. That was okay, Jacob learned from his mistakes, and Rook would too.

In under five minutes Jacob was strapped and stalking from the Vet Centre in search of his wayward Deputy. He didn’t trust his Chosen nor his hunters to track her and bring her back to him. No this hunt was his and his alone.

It was almost too easy to track her, even with the help of his cameras dotted throughout his territory. Rook was alone, travelling light for the sake of speed. As she flitted through the trees she remained blissfully unaware of the Wolf that followed her steps. Part of him wanted to draw it out, let her almost slip away just so that he could pounce - but now wasn’t the time. He could play all the games he liked once he had her safely back in his grasp. For now, a simple Bliss arrow would do.

Rook dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut, she hadn’t even realised that she was being stalked. The desperate, almost broken look in her eyes as she stared up at him, seconds before the Bliss overtook her; Jacob would savour that for a long, long time. She opened her mouth to say something but all that slipped from her lips was a whine. He chuckled, running a hand over her hair as she lost consciousness and slumped to the ground. Much like Eli had, he allowed himself to brush his calloused fingertips across her cheek, his thumb against her bottom lip. As he hefted her into his arms he took a moment to bury his nose in her hair and inhale, relishing the slight honey and vanilla scent that clung to her locks. With a wolfish smirk curling his lips, Jacob strode home with his prize.

He thought about putting her back in the cages and leaving her to stew for a little while, but he decided against it at the last moment. Instead he carried Rook inside the Vet Centre and deposited her in the same chair he’d strapped her into on her first visit. 

All that was left to do was wait - a few hours, based on the dosage he’d given her. Plenty of time to get things ready.

As the clock ticked by and the three hour mark neared, Jacob pulled up another chair directly in front of hers and settled himself in.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Jacob purred as Rook’s eyes blearily fluttered open. He watched with gleeful fascination as they fixed on him and widened in horror. “Something the matter?”

With the drug still swimming through her veins and the intricate knots Jacob had tied keeping her firmly fixed to the chair, Rook wasn’t going anywhere quickly. Her mouth worked just fine though, as her face twisted into a vicious snarl and she hissed out a scathing, “Fuck you.”

Jacob snorted, his blue eyes twinkling in smug amusement as he leaned in closer. “Don’t be like that, pup. I’m doing this for your good. Y’see I’m not mad that you slipped away from me - It’s my own fault, I can admit that. I let you think that you had a choice here, that you were _free_.” He stood, pushing his chair back behind him, leaning over her with both arms braced on the headrest behind her. “But that’s done now, you’ve had your fun. You’re home now, where you belong.” His eyes darkened, all traces of amusement slipping away as he regarded her.

Rook opened her mouth, no doubt to spit some vitriolic bullshit, but Jacob pressed one finger to her lips before she could utter a sound, “Uh-uh. Not your turn, pup. We have to clear up some things first. I know where you’ve been, _who_ you’ve been with.” The faint tinge of blush that colour was all the answer that Jacob needed, and he had to stamp down on the wave of anger that rose up within him. “I’ll say this just once, Deputy, and you damn well better listen. You’re _mine_ , I don’t share.”

And then his lips were on hers, kissing savagely, possessively. 

Rook would learn; Jacob would teach her.


	31. Jacob/Rook - I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me

It had started with two words whispered into the darkness, barely audible over the howling wind outside their cabin.

“Don’t go.”

Rook had paused, her hands half outstretched to where her clothes had been haphazardly tossed aside hours earlier. She couldn’t quite say whether it was the words themselves or the way he said them, the soft and quiet pleading in his tone, so unlike the man she’d come to know. 

Oh, she had no doubts that Jacob was capable of tenderness, she’d seen it in his eyes when he’d spoken of his brothers, John in particular, but she’d never thought that he’d ever show her even a _glimpse_ of that same affection or vulnerability. She certainly never expected it.

That would be weakness, and Jacob despised weakness.

That wasn’t to say that Jacob was cold and unfeeling, he wasn’t, but in the heat of the moment he was too preoccupied in growling out praise or filthy words that made her toes curl in delight to whisper loving endearments. That wasn’t what their relationship was.

She was fairly sure he had a soft spot for her, occasionally she’d glimpse the barest hint of an actual smile (not a smirk!) when she did something particularly charming. He flirted with her, and when he kissed her, he kissed her hard and fast in a way that set her ablaze, but Rook knew there was a difference between sex and love, or even sex and genuine affection.

Jacob, well, Rook didn’t quite know what Jacob wanted, if he wanted anything at all. Maybe she was stress relief, maybe… maybe she kept the nightmares away.

Maybe she was just a warm body on a cold night, and that was okay too. 

She certainly wasn’t about to roll over and ask him.

She’d let herself slip back into bed with him, let him sling his arm around her waist and pull her close. With the heat of his body warming her, his lips trailing softly across her neck and her shoulder, Rook let sleep take her.

It came as no surprise when she awoke the following morning alone, tucked up under thick blankets, a fire she felt sure had burned out the night before crackling away in the fireplace. 

That kind of vulnerability - it had no place in the soft morning light. Jacob was long gone.

This… whatever it was between them was a bad idea, it had been a bad idea from the start, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Regardless of what Jacob felt, regardless of how it started or why, what they had… it mattered to Rook. She wasn’t entirely sure what she felt for the eldest Seed, but it certainly wasn’t hate, not anymore.

Maybe that should have scared her more than it did.

She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t affected when Jacob suddenly dropped off the face of the earth for two whole weeks after that night. Nothing she did, no amount of hell raising or teasing over the radio waves was enough to draw him out. She had no right to feel anything, yet she couldn’t help the slight disappointed tug in her heart, the phantom ache.

Regardless, she wasn’t about to get on her knees and beg - that wasn’t what their relationship was. Hell, it could hardly be called a relationship to begin with. Whatever had been between them that night - it was clearly a mistake, a moment of weakness not to be repeated. Heaven forbid the Soldier of Eden’s Gate actually show emotional vulnerability.

But fuck it all if she didn’t miss him. It wasn’t even just the sex (though she couldn’t deny that she’d never had someone fuck her like Jacob did) she missed _him_. The rare smiles he graced her with, his dry humour and that damned laugh, the softness in his eyes when he spoke about his brothers. When he touched her, the look he’d get in his eyes - she’d glimpse it just for a _second_ before it disappeared, that awestruck wonder that made her blush, like he couldn’t quite believe that she was there with him. 

Rook never really stood a chance, not against Jacob Seed.

And damn it all if her heart hadn’t leapt into her throat the moment Jacob’s low voice finally carried across her private radio channel. It was hardly a message at all, just a time and place, not even a question. Maybe if she hadn’t known him like she did, she might have missed the slightest, barely noticeable tremble in his voice.

If she were a stronger person, a better one, she might have ignored the message. Jacob Seed wasn’t a bad idea, he was a catastrophic one, and she was already in too deep.

But if she was in for a penny, then she was in for a pound.

Jacob was there waiting for her, as he always was. The moment he saw her he was on her, hiking her legs up around his waist as his lips pressed against hers with a savage desperation that made her dizzy in the best kind of way.

Neither passed comment on his absence as he carried her into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind him - then again, Jacob didn’t exactly give her the opportunity. Rook smiled into his kisses, moaned under his touch, her nails leaving claw marks down his back as he took her.

He came with a growl, burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, holding her tightly against him. “God fuckin’ dammit,” he grunted.

“That bad?” Rook laughed, still coming down from her own blissful high. Jacob might have fucked her like a man possessed, but he wasn’t a selfish lover - she came first and _often_.

She expected him to laugh with her, or at the very least snort and roll his eyes. It surprised her then when Jacob suddenly looked up and kissed her, slow and gentle this time, one of his hands cupping her cheek, the other keeping her close.

“Jacob-” Rook pulled away to steal a breath of air, but he just made an impatient sound, chasing her lips and capturing them in another tender kiss.

He kissed her thoroughly, almost reverently, and when she pulled away once more, he let her. He met her quizzical gaze with a piercing stare of his own, his blue eyes flickering intently across her face, “Don’t go,” he murmured, his thumb stroking her cheek.

With a jolt, Rook realised that he wasn’t talking about just the night.

“You left,” she reminded him, though she made no move to untangle herself from him. “You can’t ask me to stay and then walk out, that’s not fair.”

Something tightened in his expression, and if Rook didn’t know any better, she might have thought that it was a flicker of fear that flashed in his eyes as he held her. “You… I- fuck I’m not good at this shit,” he cut himself off with a growl. She didn’t say a word as he hissed in a deep breath between clenched teeth, and after a moment he tried again, “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the _crap_ out of me.” His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you, I _know_ that but I love you, Rook, and if I have to watch you walk away from me one more time, it might just kill me.”

She reached out, cupping his scarred cheek in her hand, smiling softly as he shuddered at the touch. She brushed her lips against his once more, using her other hand to tilt his head back up to look at her, losing herself in those baby blues.

“I think I might love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, leave me some comments or kudos if you did. Also feel free to drop by on Tumblr and say hi - seedlingsinner


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